it's the end of the world (as we know it)
by Tarafina
Summary: A prophecy tells tale of an apocalypse the likes of which only the truly powerful can stop. Desperate, Caroline and Stefan aim to resurrect The First Witch -the mother of magic herself- and beg her to spare their town and save the world. But raising the dead opens old wounds, and mother might not be as forgiving as they hope. [AU - First Witch!Bonnie Bennett ; Bonnie/Damon]
1. the demon

**title** : it's the end of the world (as we know it)  
 **ship** : bonnie/damon  
 **chapter rating** : pg-13  
 **summary** : Mystic Falls has always attracted the strange, but now they're arriving in droves, and the gang is helpless to the chaos that follows. A prophecy tells tale of an apocalypse the likes of which only the truly powerful can stop. Desperate, Caroline and Stefan aim to resurrect The First Witch -the mother of magic herself - and beg her to spare their town and save the world. But raising the dead opens old wounds, and mother might not be as forgiving as they hope. [AU - First Witch!Bonnie Bennett]

* * *

 **i.**

"Are you _sure_ you read the translation right?"

Stefan sighed. "As sure as anybody can be when you're asking someone to translate a dead language…"

"I'm just saying, this is the third time we've passed that tree… I didn't pick the right shoes for walking in circles."

"How do you know it's the same tree?"

"Because. It has that wonky looking root sticking up." Caroline pointed. "Plus it's at _least_ twice as big as any other tree around here. Which is weird, right?"

Stefan stopped abruptly, and turned. "Where?"

Caroline turned on her heel and pointed to the ancient tree a good ten feet behind them now.

Walking toward it, Stefan frowned and sniffed at the air. "Do you smell that?"

"Decomposing leaves and rabbit poo?" Her brows hiked. "Hard to miss."

"No…" He stepped toward the tree and, very carefully, touched a sticky substance sliding down the grooves of its bark like a thick sap. When he lifted it to his nose, his teeth throbbed. "It's blood."

"What?" Incredulous, Caroline walked toward him, shaking her head. "It's not. I would have smelled it." Catching him by the wrist, she drew his hand near. She took a sniff, and then another. "I don't smell anything."

But Stefan knew it was blood; there was never a smell more mouthwatering than the one wafting up to him now. Still, Caroline was right. The smell was muted, especially considering how much of it was dripping down the tree from various cracks and grooves. It should have been much stronger. "You don't smell it at all?"

"Nothing." She swiped it off his finger and onto her own. "It has the right consistency though… Did the book say anything about a blood tree?"

He shook his head. "Just that the she was buried where she died. Well, buried is a bit of a simplification. After they killed her, they left the body to rot. But the ground… _swallowed_ her, is the way the professor explained it. It pulled her down into the earth and covered her in a bed of…" He paused, and bent to pluck a black rose from where it was coiling around a root, "roses."

"Weirdly morbid _and_ romantic…"

Caroline took the flower as he held it up to her and raised it to her nose. "Oh, gross! This one smells like decay. Worst flower _ever_."

Humming, Stefan stood, and pressed a hand to the trunk of the tree, pushing as if he thought it would give or push back or _something_. He looked upward, to the branches, and eerie little eyes stared back. Crows, one by one, stood above, _watching_.

Caroline followed his gaze and took a step back. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…" She tugged at Stefan's sleeve. "We should go."

"Not yet."

" _Stefan_ …"

"We need this." He looked back at her. "You heard what Sheila said. Mystic Falls is a beacon for the supernatural. This town is being swallowed whole by every evil force out there. If it were anywhere else, if I thought we could just pack up and go, I would leave it behind. But your mom isn't going to leave, Matt is following in her footsteps, Jeremy is playing vampire hunter every chance he gets, and no matter how hard we try, every time we take down an enemy, a new one follows. We need to head this thing off, and this is the only thing I can think of."

"You're talking about resurrecting the _literal_ mother of all witches. We barely survived Qetsiyah and she was just an _ancestor_. Do you get that?" Caroline shook her head. "What did the translation say? To wake the queen, you wake the demon. When things sound that ominous, it means you leave them alone!" She pointed at the crows. "Proof of fact!"

Stefan turned to her, already nodding. He reached for her arms to calm her down. "I know you're scared. I'm scared, too."

She shifted her feet and looked away.

"This is our home. We have friends and family here that matter. And I know that this feels crazy, but we've run out of options. You heard the prophecy. Ric has found it in twelve countries and no matter who he talks to, it's always the same."

"An apocalypse, Stefan, _seriously?_ Of all the places in the world, the apocalypse has to happen _here_?"

"Unless we stop it." He smiled at her gently, and reached a hand up to cup her face, fingers tangling in her hair. "Every day, this town gets more and more overrun with vampires and werewolves and things we don't even know the _name_ of. And every day we're closer to losing this fight… If this witch can do something to change that. If she can fight this or turn this thing around, then I'm willing to do what it takes to find her and ask for her help. But if you're scared, if you want to turn back–"

"I'm not leaving without you." She stared at him seriously. "I _am_ scared. I'm _terrified_. But there is no way I'm leaving you out here to do this alone. Okay?"

He smiled slowly, and nodded. "Okay."

Together, they turned back to the tree, ignoring the eerie caw of a crow above.

"So… How do we do this?" Caroline wiped her hands on her jeans. "Do we knock or…"

Stefan reached a finger out to catch a stream of blood slithering down the bark. As he did, he felt the tree _thrum_. No… He felt… He pressed his hand down against it, his brow furrowed, and he waited. It was like… a _thump_. It was– "A heartbeat."

"What?" Caroline whispered.

"The tree… It has a heartbeat"

Abruptly, the crows above suddenly dived toward them, screeching and cawing.

Stefan and Caroline both ducked to avoid them, crouched low and, hopefully, out of reach. Stefan's eyes caught on a glint of something, just under the 'wonky,' upturned root. He reached for it, digging through wet leaves and dirt, until finally, he could make out a ring. And it was on a finger.

"Caroline?"

Caroline was brushing herself off, glaring in the general direction that the crows had taken off in. "What?"

"Help me." Stefan started digging, deeper and deeper, until he revealed a wrist and a forearm, an elbow and a shoulder.

"Oh my God…"

Caroline bent to help him, and together they dug and dug, until they had produced a body from the earth. But it wasn't that of a woman, like they'd been expecting. Rather, it was a man. Black hair, pale skin, and deadly still. He was dressed in an old-fashioned tunic, practically in tatters. Dried blood darkened bits of old, white cloth, and beneath it, seemingly still healing, were wounds along the heart and stomach.

"Is he…?" Caroline paused, and then reached a hand out, coiling the very tips of her fingers around the man's limp and dirty wrist. She startled, and dropped the wrist, falling back a step

"What?" Stefan asked.

"I… He's alive." She nodded, staring down at the man with wide eyes. "There was a heartbeat. I felt it. He–"

Suddenly, the body in front of them lurched forward. He sat up and gasped for breath, sucking in air with urgency, clawing at his chest as he struggled to breathe.

Stefan leaped backward, and took Caroline with him. He stood in front of her, an arm back to keep her hidden, safely behind him, as he stared back at the man, still sitting in the dirt.

His head swiveled toward them, and his face went from innocent young human to terrifying monster.

* * *

Damon's lungs _ached_. They screamed for air. What little of it he could catch made his chest feel worse somehow. Like needles driven deep into his flesh. He clawed at his chest and continued to gasp.

Everything around him was overwhelming. The dirt beneath him, he could feel every single grain. The air burned his sensitive skin. The sounds of animals and heartbeats and life moving about the forest made his eardrums _ring_ so tremendously loud that he wanted to cover his ears and bury his head in the ground.

And then, very slowly, his focus narrowed.

 _Hunger_.

Veins crawled across his face, blood filled his eyes, and his teeth lengthened in his mouth. He bared them at the two strangers, staring down at him in shock. But it wasn't them he wanted to feed from. They didn't have what he wanted. They were of his ilk. Their blood would do nothing to sate him. No. He ran past them and grabbed a furry white rabbit from where it sat huddled against a tree in fear. He pressed its shaking body to his mouth and sunk his mouth into its chest, bit a chunk of fur and skin straight off it, spat it out, and then buried his mouth against the hole for easier access. He drained it in seconds. But, before he could go looking for another, the crows returned, and each held a gift.

The animals were small, but they would do.

The strangers, a man and a woman, watched him. He could smell the repugnant stench of their fear, but it was slowly lessening. The longer he fed and showed them no ill will, the more they became sure that he was no threat. Not to them, at least.

They were wrong.

He was a threat to _all_.

* * *

Stefan, seeing that the… _thing_ seemed to be finished eating, decided to try his luck. Whatever the man was, evidence pointed to 'vampire,' he had to be tied to The Witch. The translation led them to him; it had to be for a reason.

The man looked Stefan over from top to bottom, his brow furrowed and blood drying on his chest and spattering his tattered shirt. He opened his mouth to say… _something_. A string of words left him but it was a language that Stefan was unaware of. Nothing he'd ever heard before and nothing he could guess at.

"I'm sorry. I can't … I can't understand you. I don't know what you're saying."

The man tried again, slower, but still it was nothing Stefan understood.

With a sigh, the man stepped forward, crossing the space between them in a few long strides.

Caroline made a noise and reached for Stefan, grabbing at his elbow to pull him back.

The man stopped, eyeing her in confusion. He looked down at himself, damp with dirt and blood, and then to the hand Caroline had around Stefan's elbow. Finally, he nodded. He held his hands to his chest and then out, in a non-threatening manner.

"He's not going to hurt us," Stefan said.

"You don' know that. It could be a ploy, trying to gain our trust." She tugged at his elbow. "Stefan, he's dangerous. We don't know him or what he is or what he's doing out here. He's not who we came here for!"

"Maybe not, but he might know where she is."

Caroline sighed, long and loud and unconvinced.

"I need to try," he insisted.

The man watched them curiously, his brow furrowed. When he was sure he had Stefan's attention, he raised his arm. The sleeve of his shirt was torn nearly to his shoulder. He pulled the fabric apart and bared his wrist, before raising it to his mouth and sinking his teeth through his skin to produce a dribble of blood. Then he pointed to Stefan, as if to tell him he had to do the same.

Caroline made a noise of disgust. "What is is this, the old fashioned 'spit shake'? Do _not_ share your blood with him. It could be a trap."

"What's it going to do?"

"I don't _know_ and neither do you."

Stefan frowned, but he looked down at his arm and then to the man's and finally came to the conclusion that something needed to happen. They were wasting time. If this is what it took to gain the man's trust then so be it. He lifted his arm and bit into his wrist, producing a pearl of blood.

The man was in front of him abruptly; he took Stefan's wrist in hand and brought it to his mouth. For the first time since going head to head with the _Originals_ , Stefan found himself worryingly weak in comparison. Whatever this man was, he was stronger than the average vampire. Which made it useless when Stefan tried to pull his arm free as the man sunk his teeth through his skin and _drank_.

It was only a few pulls but it left him dizzy, his knees going soft beneath him. When the man let go, Stefan swayed, and Caroline caught him, arms banded around his waist. "I told you. I _told_ you," she said, but her voice was thick with worry.

"I'm okay." He covered her hand against his stomach. "I'm fine." Still, he found himself a little weak.

The man stood with his head tipped back, drawing in deep gulps of air, his eyes closed and his arms outstretched at his sides. And then– He stopped. He lifted his head and looked straight at Stefan. "You were of Neci's line. I can taste it in your blood."

Stefan stared back at him, his brows raised in surprised. "I… _What?"_

"Neci, my daughter. I can taste the fire in your veins." He wrinkled his nose. "This language you speak, it's strange. But then, my tongue hasn't touched words in some time…" He cast his gaze around the forest, never quite stopping on any particular thing. "The world has changed a great deal in my absence. You have my sincerest gratitude for you blood, it was most… _enlightening_."

Stefan blinked. "You _learned_ from by blood?"

"A great deal, in fact." He smiled crookedly. "In some ways, I suppose that could be considered the 'trap' your beloved worried it may be… I admit that the language barrier was a part of it, but I also needed to know what your intentions were. And now I know."

"Beloved?" Caroline squeaked.

Stefan shook his head slowly. "My intentions?"

The man nodded. "It wasn't me you were in search of."

"No. No, it wasn't. I… Sorry, if we disturbed your rest or something. We were looking for someone else. There was this prophecy and this book and a translation and… It's all very complicated, but we were looking for a witch. _The_ witch."

"I know." He tapped his head. "I fear it's far more complicated than you think."

"How's that?"

"' _To wake the queen, you wake the demon_ ,'" he quoted. "An apt, if somewhat dishonest translation. Your love, she fears that the witch is the demon. She's wrong… In order to find the witch, you first must wake the demon, that is what the translation truly meant." He spread his arms out then and smirked at them. "I am Damon... _The Demon_."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 _Some things to know:_

 **1**. _i have 11 chapters to this already written, and it's nearly finished, minus some editing_

 **2**. _this will be a crossover with teen wolf, because banshee powers, but it's set in mystic falls and bamon are the main pairing, so tvd gang take priority. more specifically, damon is the main focus until bonnie's 'resurrection'_

 **3**. _damon's speech starts off a little jarring and strange, because he comes from a different time, but as he adapts and uses the knowledge he gained from drinking stefan's blood, his language becomes more modern_

 **4**. _finally, due to having much of this story already finished, i'm not against updating quicker. usually i need more time in between to get the next chapter ready. that said, the one down side to posting quickly is that reviews are usually pretty low, so please, if you can, try to leave a review!_

 _thank you so much for reading!_

 **\- lee | fina**


	2. the mother

**chapter rating** : high teen (violence, gore)  
 **word count** : 3,141

* * *

 **II.**

Stefan had been kind enough to offer Damon a place to clean up. He was sure it had little to do with hospitality and more to do with wanting something from him, but Damon would take what he could get. Time had been unkind to him in many respects. Cleaning its grime from his person was one small reprieve.

The water was scalding hot and didn't seem to be cooling. He was content to stand there and let it wash away dirt and sins alike for as long as it might take. As it was, the water was quick to turn a a muddy brown, but his sins were ever present.

Damon could see himself in the glass wall of the shower. Rivulets of water sluiced down his skin. Much of his hair, tangled with twigs and matted with dirt, now lay in clumps in the garbage. The fashion in his time had been to wear it long, but Stefan's memories told another story of the present. It felt good to be rid of it. As Damon looked at himself now, he saw a new man staring back. But the scars of before still lingered.

His fingers carefully probed the open cut along his chest. He could feel his heart beating steadily inside, but the skin refused to close completely. A tiny stream of blood traveled down his body until he caught it. Blood and water mixed between his fingers as he rubbed them together.

For a moment, as he closed his eyes, Damon felt another hand, her hand, palm splayed across his stomach, smooth and warm. He tried to cover it, tried to feel her fingers slide into place between his own, but it melted away, a whisper of a memory. When he opened his eyes, more blood had spilled, painting his chest like a morbid canvas, dripping below to funnel away with the rushing water.

He pressed his hand to his chest until it hurt, but the pain was welcomed. _Deserved._ He focused all of his energy into that one place until he felt, ever so slightly, as the flesh knit itself together. But it was a temporary fix. What little skin had grown across the wound was thin, and it was only a matter of time until he bled again.

Before, she would have made a salve and sewn him shut with thread. He would whine that it hurt, perhaps more dramatic than necessary, but it only made her laugh. When she was finished, she'd offer a kiss that he'd never turn down. And they would tumble back into bed, even as she worried he'd pull his stitches. _Lucky then that I have you, to sew me back up again_.

The new skin across his wound burst open, splitting apart like a poor stitch. But he let it bleed this time. Let it soak his stomach and drip to the shower floor. It would heal when it was meant to, and not a second before.

* * *

"I can't believe you brought him here…" Caroline wrapped her arms around herself. "Am I the only one that thinks he's a little creepy?"

Stefan smiled at her gently. "He's just acclimating. The world's nothing like what he's used to."

"Yeah, because he was _dead!_ " She looked around quickly, to make sure 'Damon' wasn't nearby, before returning her full focus to Stefan. "Have you ever wondered _why_ they left him in the woods to just die? Or why they called him 'the demon'? Because it might not just be some clever play on his name."

"I've thought about it. And I know that this is unorthodox..."

"A man that's been dead for _centuries_ that we dug up from under a tree is currently having a shower in one of your spare rooms. That's not _unorthodox_ , Stefan. It's dangerous. We don't know him and we have no idea what _his_ intentions are. Just because he read your blood, it doesn't mean you read his. And, can I just say, the 'he's your great great great _whatever_ ' thing is also super weird. Like, what are the odds that you would be the one to dig him up? That has 'suspicious' written all over it!"

"I admit, it's strange. But, if you think about it, his ancestors have probably spread all over the world, so it's not completely unlikely that there are a lot of people out there that have a distant link to him. It just so happens, I'm one of them." He shook his head. "All that matters is that he can help us find the witch."

"We don't even know if he can! Just because he _says_ something doesn't mean it's _true!"_

"Which is why I brought him back here. Look, we play host a little while, we ask some questions, we find out what he knows. We can do this. We just need to show him that pointing us toward the witch is the right thing to do."

"How do we know he _likes_ the witch? What if they aren't allies but enemies? What if we just woke up an even bigger problem than what we already have?"

"I don't know." His shoulders slumped with his confession. "I have no idea. But I'm really trying to stay positive here, so please, Caroline, can you just help me with this?"

She frowned at him, still not convinced they were doing the right thing. But she knew him, and he wouldn't give this up until he was sure. So, with a sigh, she nodded, and then she turned on her heel to walk to the drink cart. "And don't think we aren't talking about that whole 'beloved' thing either. I have questions about that."

Footsteps could be heard coming toward the parlor, however, and the conversation was forcibly shelved. Which Stefan was quite relieved about, in fact. The last thing he needed to deal with was telling his best friend he was in love with her. They had enough on their plates as it was.

* * *

A refreshed Damon, newly dressed in more modern clothes, made his way downstairs. He wasn't ashamed to say that he'd eavesdropping on Stefan and Caroline's conversation below. Caroline had good reason to be uncertain about him. Damon had rarely been what most would call a 'good' person. For much of his life, he had been… _difficult_. Selfish and self-serving in many ways. His ultimate goals always overshadowed any others. It just so happened that his goal ran equal with their own.

To a degree.

When he stepped into the parlor, Caroline had finished off one glass of bourbon in a quick swig and was filling a second. She eyed him dubiously, but held her tongue.

Damon smiled, and turned his attention to Stefan, who seemed much more willing to bend to Damon's wishes if it meant fulfilling his ultimate goal. Damon could certainly understand that.

"Your town, it's been… overwhelmed, you said?"

"You saw his memories, didn't you?" Caroline said, frowning at him from behind her glass.

"It seemed more polite to address the issue in a roundabout way, but if you'd prefer I be blunt, I'd be happy to go that route."

Stefan looked between them before taking over. "It is, yes. Mystic Falls happens to be located on top of a lot of ley lines. It… _attracts_ people. Dangerous people."

"And you think this can be helped?"

"The prophecy said that only a being of immense power, power that nobody could replicate, would be able to stop it. The only person that seems to fit the bill in any of the history books, any of the grimoires we've looked through, is The Witch."

"The Mother of Witches." Caroline took a seat on the couch, balancing her glass on her knee. "It's said that every witch after her came from her blood line. A direct link."

Damon hummed and sat back in his seat. "She had three children. A son and two daughters, all of them were magically inclined."

"So it's true?" Caroline's brows lifted and she looked to Stefan.

"It's likely."

She frowned. "You don't know for sure?"

"When her life was put in danger, the children were sent away as a precaution. Clearly, the bloodline survived."

"You died before you found out…"

"I was… sacrificed." He smiled hollowly, his eyes narrowed. "Bonnie's magic took me into the earth to preserve me."

"Bonnie?" Caroline repeated. "Is that… Is that the witch's name?"

"It's a name you can understood. A modern version of what it was."

"So she… saved you? Is that why the book said you could find her? That you had to be woken up first?"

Damon nodded. "Bonnie feared that her powers would die with her body, so she gave them to the earth instead. The earth preserved us both. But if someone could find the person giving off that kind of power… There's no telling what they could do with it."

"So she's alive, like you were?" Stefan wondered, leaning against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. "Do you think she'd help us?"

"Waking her up won't the same as what you did to raise me… Her body's been hidden for centuries, guarded from any evil that might use her against her true purpose."

"And what's that?"

Damon didn't answer. Rather, he stood, and walked to the drink cart to pour himself a glass. He poured a second for Stefan and passed it off to him as he returned to his seat. "Have you ever wondered _why_ so many ley lines intersect here? Why that power draws the supernatural?"

Stefan and Caroline exchanged a look and then shook their heads.

"They're coming home. They don't know it. They have no idea why they're drawn here. But one by one, they cross oceans and skies and great distances of land." Damon lifted his glass and finished it in one gulp. With a grim smile, he said, "Because Mother is calling, and they have no choice but to answer."

"Wait, if that's true, if Bonnie is the one calling them then…" Caroline shook her head and stood. "Doesn't that mean that if we stopped her, they'd stop coming?" She looked between them. "Am I wrong?"

"No." Damon stared at her. "You aren't."

"So… So we find her and we… God, we somehow make the strongest witch in the entire world stop sending a magical 'wish you were here' post card." Groaning, she rubbed her fingers along her temple. "This is… _crazy_." She laughed, a little hysterical. "How the hell are we supposed to fix this?"

"To be fair, you've elected yourselves as Mister and Missus Savior of the Town." Damon shook his cup, rattling the ice inside. "Bonnie isn't calling to them on purpose. Think of it like a sire bond. Her blood line feels beholden to her. She's desperate to be awake, and some part of them feels her desperation. So they've come to her aid, only they have no idea that's what they're doing. The unruly create chaos, because they enjoy it. They're where they need to be, they just have nowhere to put their focus, and so they spread mayhem wherever they please. The others are just trying to answer nature's call. Even you two, you feel a pull to stay, to fulfill an unknown task."

"But why vampires?" Stefan wondered. "Bonnie is the Mother of all _Witches_."

"And a witch created vampires with her own blood. They may not be directly of her line, but they are connected, so they heed the call just as the witches do. Only they have no purpose to fulfill. Just a duty they don't understand."

Caroline perked up. "You said it was like a 'sire bond,' this whole _duty_ thing. So, if Bonnie wakes up, she can… _control_ them?"

"She can command them to do her bidding, sure. If she chose to. Some would defy her. From what I've seen, it's not in a vampire's nature to pledge allegiance to anyone. But they'd be no match for her powers."

"Then that's it. We wake her up, she tells them all to get lost and smarten up, and we're done!"

"You said the vampires don't have a purpose," Stefan said, "but the witches do? They can help bring her back?"

"If they're strong enough…"

Stefan nodded. "So, you can find the body and the witches can revive her, and then, like Caroline said, she can… purge Mystic Falls of the current vampire problem."

Damon peered at him a beat, and then glanced away. "I suppose."

"But you're not sure?" Caroline stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Not sure if it'll work or not sure if you want to help us?"

His mouth hitched up at the corner. "Perhaps a little of both."

" _Why?_ " Stefan shook his head. "If she saved your life, the two of you must've been connected in some way. She must've liked you if she wanted you to live."

"This isn't about me, not in the way you presume." He leaned back in his seat. "You've forgotten a vital part of the story."

"Which is?"

"The prophecy... Bonnie's powers were bound to leech into the ground, to create the ley lines, to become a beacon to the others. The vampires came here out of duty, they created trouble out of boredom. They aren't the only ones to come. Anything with magic in them has come here without knowing why, and very few of those species like each other. When Bonnie returns, war _will_ break out. It won't be a matter of sending them all away to live peacefully elsewhere. Few will live and many will die. She'll take that loss onto herself, and her grief will level this town and the entire state it resides in."

"But why? She doesn't even _know_ them!"

"They're of her making. Of her children and their children. The dead are her family and those who killed them are, too. What mother would want to see her own become that?"

Caroline shook her head. "But if she doesn't do something, then those same people are going to keep killing others. Humans. _Innocent_ people!"

Damon's blood-filled eyes snapped toward Caroline. Leaning forward, he bared his teeth as he snarled, "The humans aren't ours. They don't carry our magic in them. We owe them _nothing_."

Breath catching at the turn in his disposition, she leaned back against the couch, her eyes wide.

Black scales flared across Damon's cheeks, eerie red lines running between them like veins of molten lava. "Do you think I'll weep for the loss of humanity? You think a cry for help might jar some sense of morality in me?" He tisked, razor sharp teeth on display. "Any pity I had for humans died when they ran us down like we were the prey and they the predator. Self-righteous and certain of their superiority, as they've _always_ been. The humans razed this earth with their apathy and it was Bonnie's strength and love that brought life back to it, every leaf and every strand of grass. It was her tears that created the lakes and fed the trees and made their branches heavy with fruit."

He stood from his seat and towered over them, his shadow dancing high on the ceiling, flickering from the fire. "It was our children, my son and my daughters, that continued our line, that passed their knowledge and their power onto others so they could create vampires, so _you_ could live well beyond your time and find each other."

His eyes glowed a fiery orange an his voice grew deep and terrifying. "Don't speak to me of _sacrifice_ , little girl. I may look like you, I may _feed_ like you, but I am _not_ one of you. I am the Demon, born of hell-fire and blood. Vampires are a poor man's imitation, trust me."

Caroline made no move to argue. It was clear by her glaring eyes that she didn't agree, but she held her tongue in the face of his rage.

"She didn't mean offense." Stefan held a hand out, as if to keep things from advancing beyond that point. "Caroline only meant that people are dying. Humans, vampires, witches, werewolves, any number of other species. They're all dying. Because small scale war has already broken out. I can't apologize for what the humans in your time did. But I can tell you that the humans I know are good. They don't deserve this. They've helped people, helped vampires and werewolves and witches alike. All we want is peace. That's all we've ever wanted. That's _why_ we searched for her."

"Peace." Damon scoffed, but the scales that flickered across his face melted away to reveal smooth skin once more. "They wanted it then, too. Came to us with false offerings of kindness, saying it was time to put fear and hatred aside. A lie, of course..."

He crossed the room for the bottle of bourbon and skipped the glass, taking deep swig from the top. "They bound her first, tied her wrists together and covered her mouth so she couldn't speak her magic…" He kept his back to them and blinked back the burn of tears. "They cut her hair to her shoulders just to shame her, to _control_ her, and threw the trimmings to the fire like it was an offering... I wondered to whom they might pray. Who did they hope would give them their blessing?"

He turned around then, to see their faces. "They made her watch as they carved me open. Made her hold the blade as they pushed it in. Her fingers slipped, there was so much _blood_... And she cried. She couldn't meet my eyes, she feared I would hate her for it. But I could- I could _never_ …" His throat bobbed, and he took another long drag from the bottle.

"Somehow, I didn't die when they pulled my heart out. When they put it in her palms and let the blood fill every crack and crevice of her fingers…" His hand pressed to his chest, over the healing wound atop his heart, blood seeping through the black fabric of his shirt. "The ground opened and pulled me down, and the last I saw of her, she was crying, cradling my heart to her cheek…"

He stared at the fire a long moment, and then straightened, and turned hardened eyes toward Stefan and Caroline. "I have no pity for your humans. I have no pity for any of you… But I will do what you asked of me. I will return Bonnie to this Earth, if only so I can bare witness as she destroys every inch of it."

Before they could reply, he was gone, and they were left with the heavy realization that they may have just made things a thousand times worse.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _ahh, thank you for the lovely reviews for the first chapter! i'm very excited to see how excited you all are for this very intense story i've got going here. i was a little worried the teen wolf crossover concept might turn a few readers away, but it really is necessary to the plot i'm working with. we see a little more history here from damon that reveals a part of his connection to bonnie. there's more to it than it seems. and a lot more to her history to come. :)_

 _for those curious, we get to see Grams next chapter, and damon gets into a little trouble, as he's prone to do. ;)_

 _i have made a character page for this story, so you can see everyone that's going to be playing a big and small part in this! it's on my tumblr ( **sarcasticfina** ), so if you just add **/apocalypse** to the end of my tumblr url, you'll find it! i can't add links on here or i would. but please do check it out if you can!_

 _thank you all so, so much for reading! please try to leave a review!_  
\- **lee | fina**


	3. control

**chapter rating** : high teen (violence, gore)  
 **word count** : 4,594

* * *

 **iii.**

The new world was a strange and interesting place. But Damon had little interest in exploring much of it. Stefan had been a worldly man; he'd traveled for much of his extended life and searched out knowledge in a number of establishments. He was by no means an unlearned man, and Damon benefited from it. But truthfully, much as the modern world came with abundant luxuries, Damon yearned for the old world. For _his_ world.

Where once his home had stood, now there was a library. Or, what would have been a library, if it wasn't boarded closed. Many of the windows were shattered and the doors were chained shut. A consequence of the small scale war occurring at random in the overpopulated town of Mystic Falls.

Damon stood staring up at the red brick building, wondering how long it was before his home had been burned to the ground. How long did they wait before they tore down the walls and dug up her gardens? How long until they destroyed anything that reminded them of the family that once lived there?

The sidewalk he stood atop was once a sprawling hill that his children would roll down for fun. A monument to his left had once been a tree with a swing.

 _Higher, papa. Higher!_

Dysin always wanted to fly. He relished the weightless feeling that came with being anywhere his feet didn't touch the ground. If he wasn't in the house, he was perched on tree branches. For a long time, they thought him a reincarnated bird. Too often to count, he would climb to the highest place on the tree and yell 'catch me' before he threw himself high and far. The first time, Damon had been startled. He hadn't been ready and it was only Bonnie's quick thinking that brought their son down to earth, safe and sound. Their fear had never transferred on to Dysin, though. He would climb and climb and jump without hesitation. And so Damon learned to catch him. Every time. Until he no longer had to.

A crash echoed down the street, and Damon turned, drawn from his memories. Plumes of black smoke were leaving a broken store window in the distance. Rowdy chaos-seekers were using bats to break windows and dent a car just in front of it. They laughed, taking pleasure in the destruction they wrought.

Damon was no stranger to chaos. Prior to Bonnie, he was prone to boredom and had little to keep him busy. An immature boy that searched for amusement in the defeat of others. Bonnie had come into his life at a time when he'd been trying to be better; _wanted_ to be better. And when faced with somebody who embodied everything good, he found himself trying even harder. It wasn't that she found him wanting, or that he changed to fit her. It was a matter of crossing paths when he had already come to the conclusion that he wasn't who he wanted to be and aimed to be something more. Damon was searching for direction and he'd found it.

If she could see what had become of their people, she would be disappointed. They had loved their children so dearly; had raised them to appreciate what they had and honor the abilities they were given. And here were the offspring of their offspring, the creations of their blood, acting like spoiled infants.

In their time, Bonnie and Damon had to fight for their survival, for the chance to simply _be_ , and these people took that for granted. They flaunted their powers, took pleasure in their lack of control, and treated this world like their playground. Right then, they embodied everything the townspeople feared he and Bonnie and their children would become. The very _reason_ they were hunted down. And Damon _hated_ them for it. All those years he spent trying so desperately to be human enough that they wouldn't cast their fearful eyes at his children. That they wouldn't treat them like lepers when all they wanted was to be accepted. They tried so hard and still they were punished for it. And here was the payoff for all of it. His blood had survived. His children had children and they had gone on to create more like them. But with no steady hand and no consequences, they had become this.

 _No more_.

He watched as they moved on to another car to wreak a little more havoc and hummed. Black scales flared across his hand as he held it aloft. The car exploded in a grand display of fire, glass, and misshapen metal. Everybody surrounding it was wounded in the aftermath. They stumbled, bloody and disoriented, tripping over each other, missing limbs, bits of steel sticking out of them at random. He could smell blood and death on the air. It didn't appease him, but it didn't disappoint him either.

"A bit over the top, mate, but who am I to judge?"

Damon ticked his gaze to the right to find a smirking man beside him.

 _Klaus_.

A flash of a memory hit Damon, fringed in blood, laughter, mania, and, strangely, friendship. Stefan had been a close companion of Klaus', but any shared history was edged in wary uncertainty.

Klaus seemed unafraid of Damon, despite his easy show of power. Damon couldn't hear an uptick in his heartbeat or smell even the faintest stink of uncertainty. Either Klaus was very certain of his own superiority on the food chain, or he was crazy enough not to care.

"Can I ask what it was that offended you? Most just accept the general destruction that comes with being here… Those who fear it, _hide_."

Damon raised an eyebrow at him. "And those who don't?"

"More often than not… They join in." Klaus grinned. "But you don't strike me as a team player."

He was once. When that team had been his family. But that was long past now.

"Not really, no."

"Pity. I think we could've had some real fun…" He tipped his head and eyed the burning carcass of a car and the still-struggling vampires that surrounded it. "Well, if you ever find yourself in need of a partner in destruction, I'm always happy to help." He held a hand aloft then. "Klaus Mikaelson."

"Damon." He reached a hand out, still covered in black scales, tiny curls of smoke coming off the thin red streams that ran between them. Klaus merely glanced at it, unperturbed but clearly curious.

Klaus was old magic. An _'original_ ,' or so they called themselves. He wasn't nearly as old as Damon, but old enough. Damon could taste it sparking in the air. A mixture of vampire and werewolf and, beneath that, witch. There was power there, rippling underneath, waiting to explode. Damon imagined Klaus was as much a powerful ally as he was an enemy, and his interest in being either would depend on the day.

"Brother?"

Both Damon and Klaus turned to the newcomer. _Elijah_ , Stefan's memories supplied. The more stable of the Mikaelson children, but not any less dangerous.

Elijah stared at Damon a beat, a faint furrow to his brow. Unlike Klaus, he was a little more wary of strangers. "I see you've made a new acquaintance…"

"The things you find when you're just looking for a little _snack_." Klaus smirked, and then motioned between them. "Damon, this is my brother, Elijah. He's not nearly as keen on fun as we are."

"Someone needs to clean up when you're finished." Elijah offered a faint, hollow smile, and eyed Damon curiously. "I haven't seen you here before. Are you a new addition?"

"Something like that." Damon's mouth turned up faintly. "If you'll excuse me… I have affairs to tend to." He glanced at Klaus. "Happy hunting."

As Damon walked away, he overheard Klaus sigh. "I think you've scared off my new friend."

"I'm not so sure your new friend knows the _meaning_ of 'scared.'"

"What's that mean?"

"It means that Stefan has been suspiciously quiet of late… We should see what trouble he and his friends have been getting into. I have a feeling it'll tie in to this 'Damon' and not in a way we'll like…"

"You worry too much, Elijah. Haven't you heard? The end of days are upon us… Why not _enjoy_ it?"

"Some of us are hoping to _survive_ it still. You might try paying attention."

They left then, taking off in a blur, to somewhere with fewer ears.

Walking up the street, Damon looked down as he paused by his only living victim; a man struggling to pull a jagged piece of metal from himself. The blood squirting from his chest cavity made it too slippery, however. He looked up at Damon with glazed eyes, his skin pasty with sweat.

"H-Help… _Please_ …"

Damon tipped his head thoughtfully. He knelt beside the man, elbows resting atop his knees. "Have you ever seen a lame horse? No? We had a good horse for a time. Strong and hard working. For years, he served us. My wife, she would give him apples. Every day, she would feed him a bright red apple. He'd grown to expect it. He would hear her coming and would come to the door of his stall to greet her… Until one day he didn't. Too tired and too old, his legs just wouldn't hold him anymore. It happens, of course. That's the way of life. We all become burdens eventually…"

He shook his head. "To many, they would think it had no purpose any longer. What good is a horse that can't do its job? But to Bonnie, he was still worth her time and affection. She'd sit with him, try to soothe him, do whatever she could to put him at ease." He smiled faintly. "She had a kind heart… And if she were here, she'd pluck that metal from your heart and let it mend. Put you back on your feet, dust you off, and send you on your way, lesson learned…"

His eyes darkened, and his smile died. "I am not my wife. What little kindness I had in me was snuffed out. If it wasn't, I might not have set you and your brethren alight in the first place. But I did, and so it falls to me to finish the job. I may not comfort and heal you as my wife did, but I have enough sympathy to put you out of your misery quick." He reached over and flicked the metal embedded in the man's chest, unmoved by his choked cry.

Damon stood then, and stared down at the man from cold, unforgiving eyes. He held a hand high above him and breathed out, long and heavy. Black scales flickered across his hand, red fiery veins spidering between the cracks. "This is going to hurt tremendously."

The man's eyes bulged in fear.

"Would you rather I'd lied?"

He didn't wait for a response. Rather, he twisted his fingers.

With a deep cry, the man's body lurched up and tensed. His whole body grew grey and cracks formed along his skin, splitting open to form craters. And then— _poof_. He turned to ash before Damon's eyes and a sweeping wind took him away. As Damon turned on his heel, he held his hands up and snapped his fingers. One by one, every body he'd left behind followed in the same fashion; just piles of ash skittering across the street.

Content, Damon turned on his heel and walked away, whistling under his breath.

* * *

Stefan frowned as he opened the front door. "Let me guess, you're from Avon."

"Your sense of humor is improving, Stefan." Klaus smirked. "We were in the neighborhood and thought we might stop by and see how things were fairing out here."

"Like any good citizen would…" Stefan stared at him a beat and then glanced to Elijah. "What are you really here for?"

"Klaus made a new acquaintance in town. A man by the name of 'Damon.'" He watched Stefan for any sign of recognition.

"Well, I'm glad you're making friends. Is this one a Ripper, too? Should I give him a head's up that you'll wipe his memories or…?"

Klaus continued to grin, seeming utterly amused. "Not a Ripper, no. A witch, more like."

Elijah fiddled with his cuff links absently. "I know power when I see it, Stefan. This was no ordinary witch. This was something else… We're coming to you as a kindness, to give you the opportunity to explain what and who he is before we have to go searching ourselves… We don't relish repeating research you've likely already done."

"If I knew what you were talking about, I'm sure I'd tell you what I could." Stefan stood a little taller and crossed his arms over his chest. "But I don't know any Damon. If you haven't noticed, the town is _overrun_ with people and things I don't know."

Klaus' grin was starting to look strained. "Which makes it curious, doesn't it, that you weren't out playing referee while your little friends tried to stall the fighting…"

"I was busy."

"Were you?"

"Yes. Caroline wanted to go shopping. It's been a hard few months, I thought a little retail therapy might do us both some good." He waved a hand toward them. "I can recommend a few stores, if you're interested."

Klaus laughed, but it was clear his good mood had faded.

Before he could attack, however, Elijah stalled him. To Stefan he said, "You cannot control him. Power like that, unleashed, it puts us all at risk."

Stefan nodded. "I'll take your word for it." Stepping back, he reached for the door. "If that's all…?"

They said nothing, and so he closed the door. Wincing at the turn of events, he started down the hall in search of Caroline.

He found her in the library, books and papers spread out everywhere. They'd been going over the prophecy and what little they could find about Bonnie and Damon and, so far, they were having little luck.

Caroline pulled a face. "Did I just hear _Klaus_!?"

He sighed. "And Elijah. Turns out, they've met Damon, and they're… _concerned."_

"Right." She scoffed. "Did they happen to say _where_ they saw him?"

"No. Why?"

"Because we can't just let him run around out there. He's our responsibility and he's not exactly in a good frame of mind. Who knows what he's doing!"

"Considering who we have visiting us, probably nothing good." He walked to the table and took a seat across from her. "Regret helping me raise the dead yet?"

She snorted a laugh. "Ask me again when this is over."

* * *

He could hear them as he walked through the cemetery. Distant and quiet in the back of his mind.

The crows were calling.

 _Damon…_

A whisper.

 _Damon._

A demand.

 _DAMON!_

A scream.

They sat atop headstones and statues, staring at him with beady black eyes. When he looked toward them, they turned their heads in tandem, beaks pointed toward the woods.

 _Wake her!_

"It isn't time yet…"

They cawed and flared their wings at him, bristling, unappeased.

While the woods were in sight, Damon turned to continue his path between the many grave markers, eyeing numbers and names. He wondered if his children returned to their home later in life, or if they never set eyes on it again. He wondered if stories were told about them. How long had their legacy lived? What tales were told of him and Bonnie?

Stefan had no knowledge of them prior to searching for the book, and even then, Bonnie was a myth. Unnamed and mostly unknown. Just a great power said to be stronger than any before or after it. The first of her kind, she'd still been learning her limits, still pushing them and seeing what came of her curiosity. It was fear and anger that provoked her wrath, that pusher her to use her power in a way that could awe and terrify in equal measure.

If he were honest, he wasn't sure if Bonnie would destroy her own people, even if they harmed each other. It was more likely that her grief would swallow her. Over how much time had been lost. That she would never see their children again. That they had been betrayed by the people they had tried to help in any way they could. When she woke, someone would feel her wrath and pain and betrayal. Regardless of whether it was 'good' or 'right', he would enjoy every second of it.

* * *

Damon could smell her long before he could see her.

The potency of her magic was sweet; it made his senses tingle with recognition. Truth be told, everything had some magic in it. Every seed, every bud, every leaf, and stone and droplet of water. But witches carried a special kind of magic; a link between them and the earth. And this one was particularly powerful.

Damon paused in the middle of the grassy walkway between burials. "I don't believe we've met, witchling," he called to her. "And yet you keep such a close distance to me… May I ask why?"

" _Witchling_ ," she repeated, sounding a bit incredulous. "I don't think I've been called that since I was a child."

"In comparison to myself, you'd be about that…" Damon turned to look at her, and raised a curious eyebrow. "Were you sent to monitor my behavior then?"

"I happened to be in the area when I saw you. You… _stand out_."

He smirked slowly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"If you want to…" She eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing walking around a cemetery then?"

"I wanted to speak to a lost loved one… A cemetery seemed a fitting place to do so." He looked her over thoughtfully. "You're Sheila Bennett. Stefan Salvatore often seeks your aid on magical matters."

"Does he?" She raised an eyebrow. "And you'd know that _how_?"

"Suspicious, aren't you? I met Stefan earlier this day. He was on something of a quest. You'd know all about it, I'm sure."

Sheila paused, and peered up at him. " _You_ …?"

"I'm not a witch, not the one you seek. I do hold witches in high regard, though. Seeing as I knew the first of your line, I couldn't feel anything _but_ respect."

"You _knew_ her? But you're…"

"Dashingly young and handsome? I've been living in the equivalent of a full body mud mask for an eternity… I suppose it's done wonders for my skin."

She barked out a laugh, somewhere between amused and incredulous. And then, sharply, she asked, "So you're a vampire then?"

He shook his head. "Things aren't quite that… _simple_."

"They never are…" Casting her gaze away, she searched the surrounding area. "We shouldn't be out here… It's getting late. Safer to be indoors when night falls."

Damon frowned. "With your abilities, couldn't you simply… _deal_ with whatever might cause you harm?"

She scoffed at him. "Witch or not, there are some things even _I_ can't fight. What do you know know about what's happening around here?"

"Stefan and Caroline called it a small scale war."

She shook her head and started down the path; Damon followed to keep pace with her. "The vampires and the werewolves are sworn enemies."

Damon nodded; he'd learned that from Stefan's memories.

"But they, at least, try to avoid each other. Oh, there are some young ones that might try to push the others into a fight, but for the most part, they're easy. But then there's the in-fighting. Vampires killing other vampires just for sake of blood-thirst. Gangs of them killing groups of humans at a time. Using them for fun. Werewolves, unchained on the full moon, running rampant in the streets. Heretics siphoning off magic from witches and then sending them off to the slaughter. It's chaos. And those are just the species we _know_. Others are coming that we have no idea the background of. We don't know _what_ they are or what they can do. All we know is that they kill without mercy."

Frowning, he tucked his arms behind his back.

"Was it different before?" she wondered. "Was there every peace?"

Damon looked over at her, mouth pinched. "When Bonnie was born, she was… _gifted_. Some saw her as God, but others saw only power. A power they neither had nor could they control. For a long time, she was the only one of her kind. Until her children. A son and two daughters.

"Bonnie was of the earth. Her powers, her strength, they came from the ground. And her children's did, too. But the earth was just one part of them. Her son– in your tongue, you might call him Dysin– he loved the air. He loved it so much that he became it. Like a wingless bird, he could move wherever the wind went. And M'kenna, she was water. She'd swim down to the bottom of the lakes and the rivers and live among the fish.

"The town didn't fear them. Birds and fish are prey, not predators. But Neci, she was fire. She was like her father. Untamed and uncontrolled. Neci wasn't evil; she would never hurt anyone. But fire can hurt as much as it can warm, and the townspeople feared the day she would destroy everything she touched…

"Soon, they didn't see Bonnie as a God. They saw her as the mother of monsters, and the only thing to do was to destroy her."

He turned to Sheila, his face carefully emotionless. "The humans were the hunters then. Perhaps it's a strange comeuppance that they die under the hands of the children they wanted so desperately to destroy…"

"If that's true, if everything that has magic in them is born of Bonnie, then they're killing their own, too. Her children are killing her other children. Would she want that?" Sheila stared up at him searchingly. "If Neci had been evil, if she'd used her abilities to destroy M'kenna or Dysin, would Bonnie have allowed it? Water and fire have never mixed, but they were born as sisters. So what does that mean?"

Damon didn't answer. Rather, he became thoughtful, turning her words over and over in his mind. He and Sheila made their way from the cemetery and into town, walking down the sidewalk of a shop-filled street. She was digging for her keys in her bag when they heard the crash.

Sheila startled, and pulled her hand from her bag. She hurried her steps toward the source of the sound, and Damon went with her, curious to see how she might handle the situation.

Around the corner, they came upon a group of people, _hybrids_ by the scent of them, lighting rags stuck down the necks of bottles. _Molotov cocktails_ , his mind supplied for him. They threw them toward a group of people, huddled at the end of an alley they couldn't escape. The burned up husks of two bodies said enough about the situation.

Sheila's heart skipped a beat and Damon could smell her grief over the loss of life. She waved a hand toward the bottles they held and the fire was immediately extinguished. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" she snarled.

The group direction their attention to her. A few of them were angry that she'd interrupted their fun, while others seemed amused, even interested, at what her appearance could mean.

"Y'know, I've never eaten a witch before…" A young man, or seemingly so, elbowed the guy next to him. "Not in the literal sense anyway."

The group laughed.

"But I'm always up for new things…" His face twisted up, and his teeth lengthened in a ghoulish display.

Sheila's eyes narrowed, and just before the cocky vampire thought to attack, he was on his knees, clutching his head. The others turned to him, and then snarled at her. While a few others grabbed at their heads, it was clear she couldn't take out the whole group, and trying to weakened her hold on each individual vampire.

One broke free, salivating and angry, and rushed toward them, baring his teeth as he lunged.

Sheila took a step back, her wide eyes.

Before the vampire could make contact, Damon stepped in. He caught the vampire by the throat and held him in place, legs dangling off the ground and hands grappling at Damon's arm. He choked, eyes bulging, but Damon wasn't looking at him.

He stared out at the hybrids, no longer writhing in pain on the ground, but instead watching.

"I take offense to any attack made on a witch." He cast his eyes over them, narrowed with warning. "You'll offer your sincerest apologies, immediately."

"What?" One of them, a young man with pale skin and buzz cut, scoffed. "I don't know who you think you are, but—"

"It wasn't a request." Damon squeezed his hand so hard that he crushed the throat held between his fingers. He kept squeezing, until the entire head came off and rolled to the ground, the body slumping soon after. Hand dripping with blood, he waved it in a 'what can you do' manner. He grinned as he said, "It was an order."

While the majority of the group seemed to heed danger and stay back, two took their chances. With a war cry, they ran toward him. Damon quickly and efficiently removed their hearts from their chests. He dropped them atop their dessicated bodies and looked to the remaining few. "You were saying?"

They took one look at each other and then ran, blurring out of sight and as far away as they could get.

Turning around to face Sheila, Damon smirked. "Youth these days."

She snorted, and rolled her eyes. "You know they won't take that lying down. They'll get others and come back to finish it."

"What's to finish?" He bent to wipe his bloody hands on one of his victim's shirts and frowned when they still came back sticky. His gaze moved down the alley, to the crouched victims clutching at each other and crying. _Humans_. He offered them nothing.

But Sheila did. "Go! Go home, get out of town, just _go!_ Don't stop for anything."

They hesitated only a second, and then they were up and racing out of the alley, keeping their distance from the bodies and Damon. They ran for their lives, heartbeats hammering like jack rabbits, stinking overwhelmingly of terror.

Damon turned his gaze to Sheila. "You had a vehicle nearby, didn't you?"

"A block back."

"I'll walk you." He stood, and held his elbow out for her to take.

She glanced at his stained hands, then to the bodies, and finally made her decision. Sliding her arm around his, she looked up and asked, "So you had three children then?"

He glanced at her, surprised, but then nodded.

"I had two. Abby, my youngest, she moved back recently, when things started going sideways down here. And Joanna, rest her soul, she raised her baby girl here before she passed. I have a feeling you'll like my granddaughter. Braeden and my niece Lucy are both more… hands-on fighters."

Damon hummed. "They're witches?"

"One is." Sheila's brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "I guess, in a distant way, they're your family, too."

His smile was subdued.

Sheila patted his arm. "Come on. It's late. And you're probably hungry. I have a stew on."

"Is that a request or a demand?"

"What do you think?"

 _A demand, most definitely._

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _this was fun. damon's a little… unhinged. but he's working on it… ish. for those wondering why he hasn't woken up bonnie, there's a reason for it. he hasn't gotten into it yet, but he will, soon._

 _next chapter let's us meet the teen wolf crew and their tie to all of this. for those of you who know both shows, you'll recognize braeden, who's a bounty hunter in teen wolf, and sheila's granddaughter in this. ;)_

 _thank you all so much for your support. i love reading your tags and seeing how you feel about each chapter. i'm really enjoying this much more intense story and weaving damon and bonnie's history._

 _thank you all so, so much for reading! please try to leave a review!_  
\- **lee | fina**


	4. magic

**chapter rating** : pg-13 (violence) **  
word count** : 4,823

* * *

 **iv.**

Caroline was pacing. They'd packed in the books and now she was showing her obvious worry about what Damon might be up to in more obvious ways.

Drink in hand, Stefan sat slumped in a chair, pondering the reality of their situation. It was very possible that they had woken up the very being that would usher in the apocalypse they had been trying to avoid. Stefan could almost laugh. Of _course_ he had a hand in the end of the world; that was just the way his life always went.

Hours had passed since they'd last seen Damon. He was out there, free in Mystic Falls, doing who _knows_ what, and Stefan had no idea what to do. Did he go after him? Lock him in the cellar like he might a blood thirsty vampire? Beg him to understand that destroying the world wasn't the right idea? Or maybe defeat was just inevitable and it was time to just lay down arms and let it happen. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. God, he was exhausted…

His vibrated against his leg, as if the universe had heard he was tired and decided to test him a little more. He lifted his hips as dug into his pocket to fish it out. Sheila's face stared back at him from the screen and, resigned, he hit the 'Answer' button. "Hello?"

"Tell me, you wouldn't happen to be missing a particularly powerful creature, would you?"

Across the room, Caroline stopped and turned toward him, her eyes wide.

He stared back at her in a similar fashion. "You saw him?"

"Saw him? He's in my living room. We just had dinner and now Braeden's challenging him to a drinking contest. It goes without saying that you should get here. _Immediately_."

He nodded, and stood from the couch. "We're on our way. And Sheila…?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For calling. I know you weren't sure about any of this. The prophecy or translating the books or any of it…"

"I'm still not sure about it. But that man, whatever he is, saved my life tonight. And I want to believe that the woman that created my kind, the first witch to walk this earth, would love a _good_ man."

Stefan considered that. So far, Damon had done nothing to harm them. But his words, razor sharp and edged with grief and mania, had told a different story. He would watch the world burn and laugh, accepting it as penance for the loss of his family. But that was the mask that covered the hurt. The rage that followed loss. What if there was a way to tap into the man of before? To the man who'd loved a witch and raised three children at her side. What if that was the man that saved Sheila? If they could access that part of Damon, maybe they could redirect this whole thing, and stall the apocalypse at its source.

* * *

"You're not a wolf."

Malia looked up from the cards in her hands and frowned at the man peering at her. "No."

"But you are _something_ …" He raised an eyebrow. "I can smell your magic… I can also smell wolves on you."

"I'm magic?" She looked to Braeden, her brows hiked.

"You're 'supernatural.'" Braeden rolled her eyes. "Not _everyone_ can shapeshift."

"What are _you_ then?"

"What do you mean? You know what I am." She grinned. "A _badass_."

"You come from witches, but you aren't one…" Malia shook her head, confused. "How am I magical but you aren't?"

"It skips a generation." Braeden shrugged. "Whatever. Can we focus? I'm about to school all of you…" She flicked her finger at the cards she was holding.

Malia returned her attention to Damon. "What are _you_?" She sniffed at him. "You smell different, too."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. Like… copper and sulfur and…" She frowned. "Roses?"

Damon smiled slowly, seeming amused with her. "I'm different."

She huffed, unhappy with his explanation. "I'm a coyote." Her child tilted rather defensively. "But my alpha is a werewolf."

"Alpha? Like a leader?"

She nodded.

"Did you choose him?"

"I… Kind of. He helped me. Brought me back when I was stuck. And then later, he became my friend, and then my alpha. Does that count?"

"If you could choose again, would you still choose him?"

Malia's gaze fell to the table a long moment as she considered the question. Scott was a good alpha. He was strong and kind and he never did anything that would purposely hurt someone, not even an enemy, if he could help it. A part of her thought that was silly. It was… unnecessary. In the woods, it was life or death, and a predator could make that choice for her. But she wasn't in the woods anymore. She was with people, with her pack, and she trusted Scott to make the right decisions for all of them. "Yes," she decided, raising her eyes to meet Damon's.

He stared back at her a beat, and then nodded. "Then it counts."

Malia smiled.

Braeden simply rolled her eyes. "Can we get back to playing poker now that you two are done with the philosophical stuff?"

"Yup."

"Yes."

"Good." She laid her cards out and smirked. "Read 'em and weep."

* * *

"The world is _literally_ about to end and they're playing _poker!?_ " Caroline stared through the window incredulously, before turning to look back at Sheila, who was standing on the porch next to Stefan.

"Braeden figured out drinking him under the table was probably impossible, so she moved on to something she knew she could beat him at." Sheila shook her head and looked to Stefan. "You said he could find Bonnie?"

He nodded. "But he thinks waking her up will actually _cause_ the apocalypse instead of stopping it."

She stared at him searchingly. "But you think different?"

"I think he's grieving and he's angry. But if we can get him to see things our way, if we can get him to help us stop her, that we can change it. He thinks Bonnie will destroy everything because she'll realize that everything that came after her, everything born of her, turned out exactly like people were afraid they would. That she'll wake up to see a world of monsters made of her blood, killing their own kind, her own people, and she'll wipe out everything she can see."

Sheila sighed, and crossed her arms over her chest. "And he wants that?"

"He's not against it…" Caroline walked over to them, her hands on her hips. "He blames humans for what happened to them and, well, he's not wrong. It's just… We shouldn't have to pay for what _they_ did."

"So what's the plan then? How do we change his mind?"

Stefan shook his head. "I don't know… I just know we have to do something. It's getting worse out there, every day, and we're running out of time."

"Then we need more people on this." Sheila looked between them. "We'll call a meeting. Tell the others. See what we can all come up with. This needs to be a group decision."

Stefan winced, and looked to Caroline.

"Yeah… They weren't exactly on board with the decision to wake Bonnie up in the first place. I'm not sure they'll be too happy when they find out she might actually be the _reason_ the apocalypse is happening."

"Unintentionally." Sheila looked between them sternly. "She's not the enemy. Just like Damon isn't. They were wronged, and the consequences are only just now being seen… It had to happen eventually. It was just a matter of time. It's not ideal, but we have an opportunity here. Damon's hurt, but he's not lashing out. At least not at us. Which means he might be open to convincing… We just have to find the right way to approach him."

Caroline nodded. "So group meet?" She dug her phone out of her pocket. "Tonight or…?"

"Tomorrow morning." Sheila looked inside at the small group sitting around the table, laughing together. "Lydia's had a difficult week, but it's easier in the mornings…"

"Tell them to meet us at the boarding house," Stefan added.

Caroline tapped it out and send it off to the group at large. Finished, she put her phone away, and then frowned. "He seems okay. Maybe we shouldn't interrupt tonight. I mean…" She looked to Sheila. "If that's okay with you?"

"It's fine. I can't guarantee he'll stay here. He's his own person. But I'll make the offer all the same."

"Thank you." Stefan offered a small smile. "I know how complicated this whole situation is and you keep getting dragged into it…"

"These are my people, too. If it wasn't for Bonnie or Damon, I wouldn't be here. And I wouldn't be what I am. The supernatural world has never been easy, but it's home, and I'm proud to be a part of it."

Stefan nodded.

Caroline hooked her arm through his. "We'll see you there? Tomorrow?"

"I'll be there."

Caroline smiled. And together, she and Stefan walked down the porch stairs to the yard.

Sheila waited until they were in the car and pulling away from the house before she turned and walked back inside.

Malia had a pile of chips in front of her and was grinning proudly.

" _How?_ " Braeden demanded.

Malia shrugged. "I can smell when you're lying."

"That's _cheating!_ "

"You didn't say I couldn't."

Damon nodded agreeably, but Braeden wasn't having it.

Amused, Sheila merely shook her head.

* * *

Malachi Parker sat atop an abandoned carcass of a car, swinging his legs back and forth, watching his minions douse a field in highly flammable liquid. It would be the new crop circle, he decided. When they were nearly finished, he snapped his fingers, and watched as flames burst out of nowhere. A domino effect occurred, with one end of the liquid lighting and the fire following its winding path, every which way. Not quick enough to get away, his minions were caught in the middle. Screaming, they ran in circles, rolling in the flaming grass in an effort to put themselves out. But the fire only burned higher.

He grinned, amused by the chaos, humming a jaunty tune like their pained cries were his favorite song. He began waving his arms from side to side, a conductor at the forefront of a symphony. His hand moved to the right and one, two, three cars _exploded_ , squealing metal and blown out glass flying everywhere. He waved a hand to the left, and— _four, five six_ — three more cars joined the fray.

Fire and smoke filled the area, three men lay dead in a field, and Kai was in his prime. He could taste the magic in the air, filtering around like a fine dust, sprinkling down on him, a blessing. The town was overrun with people of all kinds of magic, lured there be an unknown source. He didn't care to find out who, he just appreciated his good luck. The population of Mystic Falls was 10:1 for the supernatural, which meant he had a _smorgasbord_ to select from. And select he did.

Hopping off the car, he left the burning wasteland behind him, and started for town once more. Two more of his minions, a nymph and a werewolf, fell into place behind him, exchanging a wary look at his back.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm feeling _peckish_ … Who wants to eat?"

"What's on the menu?"

He smiled. "Whatever we want."

* * *

"And just _where_ have you two been…?"

Stefan looked up, and rolled his eyes as Sarah leaned over the stair banister and raised an eyebrow. "Cute. Pulling the disappointed parent routine. I'd like it more if you weren't supposed to be far, far away from here, safely tucked away in your dorm room."

"See, I was. And I was mildly okay with that. Until Matt told me he was having all this fun, kicking bad guy butt, and I thought I'd visit." She made her way downstairs to meet them and grinned. "So? Caroline move in already? Let me guess, June wedding and you want _me_ , your favorite niece, to be the maid of honor. I accept."

"June _what?_ " Caroline blinked at her and then let out a strangled laugh. "Did Stefan tell you about that 'beloved' thing? Because that was out of context and…" She turned to Stefan. "We still need to talk about that."

Stefan stared at her a beat and then turned a smile on Sarah. "You must be hungry. Why don't I make you something? And you can tell me all about school. Every detail. Doesn't matter how long it'll take…" He walked off down the hallway, and Sarah smirked.

"I don't know. I'm kind of curious about this 'beloved' thing…"

"Funny. Very funny. Who wants pasta?" He clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he backed through the door into the kitchen.

Shaking her head, Sarah turned to Caroline. "You really should put him out of his misery."

" _Me?_ What did I do?"

Sarah sighed and followed after her uncle. "For two smart people, you guys are ranging a little high on the idiot scale."

"Hey!" Caroline marched after her. "I have a 4.0 GPA."

"And yet, here we are, having this conversation."

"Be nice." Stefan washed his hands at the sink. "I wasn't kidding about updating me. How's school going?"

"Good. Boring. I'd much rather talk about how the world is ending and, while that means no more student debt, it still severely screws up my ten-year plan…" Digging in the fridge for a bowl of grapes, she brought it with her as she hopped up onto the counter. "So? Matt said you guys have exactly zero idea of how to master this whole evil apocalypse thing. Just driving through town, I've gotta say, things don't look good… I'm pretty half the town is on fire or just burned out holes where things _used_ to be."

Caroline sighed and slumped onto a stool in front of the island counter. "Well, we _tried_ to have a plan, but that kind of backfired."

"Backfired how?"

"We raised the husband of the most powerful witch to ever live and he has a serious anti-human streak in him so he's kind of hoping his wife will level the earth."

Sarah blinked. "Wow, when you guys go hard, you don't play."

Stefan rolled his eyes as he gathered ingredients up for his pasta sauce. "We have a plan. Or a part of a plan… We have a general idea that we hope will _create_ a plan."

"Does it involve us not dying?"

"Best case scenario, _yes_."

She grinned. "Then I like it."

* * *

"Jamie… Jamie, wake up!" Abby didn't turn the light on, just in case it caught their attention. But she leaned over her son, shaking his shoulder. "Jamie, they're here. We have to go, _now!"_

Jamie blinked awake, stretching his arms above his head, and yawning. "Wha…?"

"They're on the lawn, Abbs, we gotta go." Lucy appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, a shotgun in hand.

"Where's your bag? You packed it, right?" Abby moved around Jamie's room, shoving things out of the way, searching for the duffelbag she'd made her son pack up for just this situation.

"It's under the desk." Jamie rolled out of bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He blinked wildly and dug up a pair of jeans from the floor, yanking them up his legs. To Lucy, he asked, "How many?"

" _Too_ many."

"I thought we had this place covered… The shielding spell." He shoved his feet into his beat-up sneakers and took his bag as his mom hurried past him.

"Siphons." Abby walked across the hall into her own room, pulled a jean jacket on and grabbed her bag. "They're absorbing magic everywhere they go. The house isn't hidden anymore. If they find us…"

Jamie's face darkened grimly. "Back door?"

She shook her head. "Tunnel."

He sighed, but nodded.

Together, the trio made their way downstairs to the basement. A crash sounded above them, glass shattered, and then a whoosh. As they made their way to the far corner, where a bureau was covering the door leading into the tunnel, smoke slipped through the crack under the basement door.

Lucy shook her head. "Are they trying to burn us to the ground or smoke us out?"

"Does it matter?" With a wave of his hand, Jamie moved the bureau away from the wall enough for them to slip through.

"You first," Abby insisted, pulling at his arm.

"Mom—"

" _Go_."

With a sigh, Jamie climbed into the tunnel. It was too dark to see, but he knew exactly where it led. Under the field and out into the woods, just beside the creek. It was tall enough for him to stand in, just barely, but the walls were close enough to make him feel claustrophobic.

"Don't turn your flashlight on right away. We have to be far enough from the basement that it won't show around the bureau."

He nodded and hurried ahead, walking a fast clip.

Behind him, Abby climbed inside, and waited for Lucy to follow.

Her cousin moved the bureau back into place and turned to her. "That's the third safe house we've lost. I'm starting to think they're holding a grudge."

Abby snorted. "We did take out a good chunk of their coven."

Lucy smirked. "They started it."

Hurrying their steps, they caught up to Jamie, who'd only just flicked his flashlight on.

He looked back at his mother. "Where do we go now?"

"The only place left is mom's."

"If they really are following us, what makes you think they won't burn down Grams' place, too?"

"We'll stay there tonight and make a plan in the morning. It's our only option right now. It's not like we can rent a room at a motel…"

The noise above them was distant, funneling down through the dirt. The coven was enjoying themselves; laughing as they burned down yet another house the three Bennetts had tried to take refuge in. The on-going war between covens wasn't making things easy. Especially when the majority of witches wandering out their way didn't seem to have a kind bone in their body. Rather, too many of them were deep into Expression and happy to join in on the chaos taking over the small town. And if they had siphons on their side, they were going to be just about unstoppable.

By the time they reached the end of the tunnel, Abby was exhausted. She'd barely slept these last few months, the world was just too dangerous to get any real rest. She was looking forward to being at home. She and her mother didn't always get along, they had their differences, but just being around her would be enough. Sheila always exuded a feeling of safety, and Abby desperately wanted to feel that right about now.

They still had a long trek ahead of them, moving through the woods in the direction of town. Jamie, much more alert now, slipped her bag off her shoulder and onto his own.

She smiled back at him gently and hooked her arm through his. "Mom said she was making stew earlier; maybe she has some leftovers. That'd be nice, huh?"

He nodded.

"Should we call ahead?" Lucy wondered. "Give her a head's up we're on our way?"

"Reception out here sucks. We'll try when we're closer to town."

"What are the odds she doesn't have anyone sleeping on her couch?"

Abby snorted. "Slim. I know Braeden stays with her off and on."

"Whatever. I'll take the floor then. I just want a good night's sleep."

"Same." Jamie's flashlight bounced off the trees as they moved between them. The deeper into the woods they got, the darker everything around them became.

A fluttering noise above caught his ears, and he looked up to see not one but six crows lining the branch of a tree. They fluttered their wings as his flashlight washed over them. Weirded out, he dropped the beam back down, but not in time. The crows dove from the branches and flew right toward them.

"Shit." He ducked low to avoid them, and felt the air rush past overhead. When he looked up, they were all moving together, flying in a group, weaving through the trees. He frowned after them, and then looked to his mother. "That was weird."

A caw answered him from above, and then another.

"We should move." Lucy looked around nervously. "Quickly."

Together, they picked up speed, and hurried through the woods. But everywhere they went, the crows already were. They realized too late that the birds might be herding them toward something. It wasn't until the ground gave out beneath them and they tumbled down into a crater-like dip that they took a second to consider it. The trees made a perfect circle around them, and below was nothing but flowers. Every color they could imagine, layering every inch of dirt.

"It's a burial." Lucy shoved herself to the very edge. "Get out. Right now! _Move_."

Jamie frowned. "What?"

Lucy clawed at the dirt and pulled herself up and over the edge. Dusting herself off, she reached an arm back to help Abby out. "Be careful. Don't crush the flowers."

"The hell do some stupid flowers matter?" Jamie moved to follow his mother.

"Did you even _read_ the family grimoire? Flowers mark witch's graves. The more flowers there are, the stronger the witch. It's their power leaking into the earth, and the earth giving back." Grabbing him by the wrist, Lucy yanked him up and out of the plot. "Uprooting the flowers is offensive. Now come on, we need to get out of here."

Lucy hurried ahead, with Abby keeping pace.

But Jamie lingered for a moment, staring down at the divot below. "That's a _lot_ of flowers…"

A caw echoed from above, and he looked up to see a crow sitting on a branch of each tree that made up the circle.

He swallowed tightly, and held his hand up in surrender.

They didn't dive bomb him this time, but their message had already been sent. Turning on his heel, he took off after his mom, and just tried to shake off the whole bizarre thing.

Easier said than done.

* * *

Braeden found Damon on the porch, staring up at the sky. She closed the screen door behind herself and took a seat on a chair across from him. "You don't sleep?"

"I've done enough sleeping."

"Yeah? Where was that?"

He looked over at her, a brow raised. "It's been my experience that Bennetts take offense to not knowing everything."

She huffed a laugh. "We're suspicious by nature… There are a lot of strange things out there, you never really know their intentions until you ask."

"You expect them to be honest when they answer?"

She shrugged. "I expect I'll know if they're lying."

He hummed.

"You don't believe me?"

"If I remember correctly, Malia suggested you were 'human.'"

" _So?_ "

"So, it's been some time, but to my last recollection, humans didn't have any special abilities."

She grinned at him slowly. "That's what you think?"

"It's what I know."

Leaning forward in her seat, she nodded at him. "Go ahead, tell me something, and I'll tell you if it's a lie or not."

He pursed his lips. "Why?"

"What? You just get to say things like they're fact and I can't prove you wrong?" She raised an eyebrow. "Put your money where your mouth is."

He sighed, long and dramatic. "All right. What would you like me to say?"

"Something I don't know, so you can't say I'm cheating."

Not in any particular hurry, he took his time thinking about it before eventually nodding.

Braeden was not quite as patient. " _Well?_ "

"I had a daughter."

She looked his face over a moment, and then said, "True."

"When I last saw her, she was just a little girl."

Braeden frowned. "True…"

"My daughter lived a long life. Had children of her own. She was happy. She never had to face the same persecution myself or her mother did. She was free."

"I…" She shook her head.

"Do you know what the flaw in guessing whether someone is lying is?" He turned to look at her. "If they don't know the truth, then neither can you."

"That's not the same thing." She stared up at him from narrowed eyes. "You weren't playing it right."

"Of course not. And neither would your opponent." He tipped his head as he considered her. "Does it bother you, that you aren't like the others? That you were born from a line of witches but have no powers to call your own. Just your wit, just what strength you build independently."

Braeden scowled. " _No_. Maybe when I was a kid, but I grew up. I don't need magic."

Damon sat back in his seat then. "Liar."

"I'm happy with my life. It's not always easy, but _I_ made it. I decide who stays and who goes. Who matters and who doesn't."

"What if I told you I could change it?" His eyebrow arched. "I can smell the magic in your blood, it just never had a chance to spark."

Braeden leaned away and tilted her chin up stubbornly. "So what, you just snap your fingers and suddenly I'm a witch?"

"Would you want that?"

She stared at him a beat, and then looked away. "I don't know. All right? My whole life I knew I was different. Not just from my family, but regular people, too. I don't fit there. I don't fit anywhere. So I do what I do and I make a good living and it's fine. I'm okay with that."

"But you wonder, don't you? If you could be happier. If only you'd been born like all the rest."

She clenched her teeth and turned her gaze to the lawn ahead. "Why do you care anyway?"

"I don't remember saying I cared. I remember making you an offer."

With a snort, she shook her head. "A fiddle of gold against my soul, right?"

"Is your soul worth that much?"

She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. "You tell me."

He smiled, a slow upturn of his mouth. "I don't barter in souls… I don't grant wishes either. But I wonder, did you think I was lying, or did hope cloud your judgement?"

Pushing up from her seat, she sneered at him. "You're an asshole."

"More often than not."

Pivoting on her heel, she marched toward the door.

"You wouldn't be."

She paused to look back at him, unamused. "I wouldn't _what?_ "

"Be happier."

Braeden stared at him a few seconds longer, and then she pushed inside. "Whatever."

Damon remained on the porch, and watched a shooting star crawl across the sky.

 _("I don't want to go. Papa, please! I can stay. I will fight them with you!"_

 _"Get in the carriage now, Neci." He tried to nudge her closer to the cart, but she stubbornly refused to be moved._

 _"But it's me they want. Me that they fear! I am their monster."_

 _"No!" Damon knelt and caught her by her small, shaking shoulders. "You are no monster. Do you understand me?"_

 _"What if they're right? What if fire only destroys?"_

 _He shook his head, and brought her head forward so he could press a kiss to the top of her springy, black hair. "They fear you because they're not you. One day, they will want for abilities like yours. They will pray and beg to be as powerful as you. And we will take pity on them, because the strong protect the weak. Today is not that day. But I pray you will see it, and you will show mercy where I cannot."_

 _Neci's tears spilled down her cheeks. "Come with us… Please, Papa. Please!"_

 _Damon sighed. He plucked Neci up and placed her inside the back of the carriage, alongside her brother and her sister._

 _Bonnie was kissing their cheeks and their foreheads, their hair and their hands, everywhere that she could reach. "I love you. I love you, my darlings." With a strangled cry, she stepped back, and leaned into Damon's side, a hand pressed against her mouth, tears trickling down her cheeks._

 _Damon looked at each of his children, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Whatever they tell you, whatever happens, you're good. You're everything good in the world."_

 _Neci reached for him, her hand outstretched._

 _But the carriage lurched forward and began to pull away._

 _No matter how desperately she wanted to, she could not reach him. "Papa! PAPA!_ ")

Magic had its advantages, Damon knew that first hand. But there were consequences, too. And some were just too steep to endure.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _a number of things happened in this chapter. we get to see a lot more of the extended bennett family tree. so abby and lucy are in this and yes, i included jamie as abby's son. that was a last minute thing but i like it so there you go. and then sarah! i adoooored sarah's part in this and her very laidback relationship with stefan. and we get a glimpse at what havoc kai is up to you. he's going to be an interesting cog in things later on._

 _we also get braeden and her little antagonistic heart to heart with damon. i like to think it's a two pronged thing happening here in their conversation. she's offering an olive branch and he's stuck, because he doesn't hate braeden. he barely knows her, but she does represent a bit of a n issue for him. she's human but also from a magical line. so he's harsh, absolutely, but i think he also thinks he's saving her by telling her she's better off as a human. he's seen how having magic and power can hurt more than help. but there's still some bias there and his feelings and actions are obviously clouded with that._

 _anyway, that's my thinking on this. i hope you liked this chapter!_

 _please try to leave a review'kudos on AO3 or FFnet, reblog/like/leave some love in the tags on here!_

 _thank you so much for reading,_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	5. the story goes

**chapter rating** : pg-13 **  
word count** : 4,500

* * *

 **v.**

Sheila opened the front door at four am, her hair wrapped and a scowl pulling at her mouth. "Who in the hell…?" She blinked and looked between the three dirty and exhausted looking people standing in front of her. "What happened?"

Abby and Lucy exchanged a look.

"They found us again…"

"The barrier spell?"

"Siphons."

With a sigh, Sheila stepped back and swung her door open wide. "Come on in. I don't know where I'll put you all. Braeden went on home, but Malia's in the spare room. Couch pulls out. Two of you can take that. One can share with me, I suppose."

"I don't wanna put you out, Aunty," Lucy said. "I'll take the smaller couch."

"It's not putting me out if I offer." She stared at her seriously. "Now go on. You look like you've been rolling in dirt. Get yourself a shower and then head to bed."

Lucy smiled tiredly. She popped a kiss on Sheila's cheek and then walked past her down the hall to the bathroom.

Abby was rubbing her face while Jamie started pulling the cushions off the couch.

"How close did they get this time?"

"Too close." Abby dropped her hands to look at her mother, and shook her head as her eyes stung. "If Lucy wasn't keeping an eye out… They would've burned us alive in there."

Sheila's gaze fell for a moment, and then she reached out and took both of Abby's hands. "You're safe. You're _home_."

Abby nodded, but her mouth turned down. "For how long?"

Taking a deep breath, Sheila let it out on a long, heavy sigh. "Caroline called a meeting. You'll all come with me. We have some things to discuss… Things around here are going to change, and soon. We need to be prepared for that."

Brow furrowed, Abby stared at her mother a beat. "All right."

"Get yourself a shower when Lucy's done. There's some leftover stew, make yourself up a bowl. And if you happen to see a man, pale as a ghost and a little strange, he's all right. Another house guest. He seems to have wandered off somewhere, but I'm sure he'll be back."

"Mama…?"

"Just trust me, all right?" Sheila gave her hands one last squeeze and then let go. "Jamie, honey."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You all right?"

"Yeah, yes. Just… tired."

"Eat and then get some sleep. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sheila made her way down the hall then, and with a click of her door, the house was quiet once more.

Exhausted, Abby slumped into a chair. "God, why did we ever come back here…?"

Jamie shrugged. He'd finished pulling out the sofa bed and had dressed it in clean sheets. A couple blankets lay folded at the end. "You wanted to help."

"Yeah." She scoffed. "Big help I've been."

"We're doing what we can… It's not like staying away would've helped any. Leaving everybody else to fix this, just trying to pretend it isn't happening… We had to do something."

Rubbing her fingers against her temple, Abby nodded. "I know. You're right. I'm just… I'm so sick of this. I hate this feeling. Like we're on the run and getting nowhere fast."

"Well, Grams said it was going to change soon. Maybe tomorrow we make a new plan, do things different."

She smiled up at him, but it was weary and a little forced. "When'd you get so hopeful, huh?"

He shrugged. "Could be delusional. I haven't eaten in a while."

Abby rolled her eyes and threw a couch pillow at him. "Shut up."

Jamie grinned. "I'm gonna heat up some of that stew. You want a bowl?"

"Yeah, thanks."

He walked off to the kitchen, and she watched him go before slumping back in her seat. She had no idea what tomorrow held, if this meeting would result in anything better than the last four months worth. But she hoped so, she really did. Because she couldn't keep going like this. None of them could.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Elena sighed and pushed her damp hair back from her face. It was early. Almost too early to even be awake. But they had a group meeting at the boarding house and, by the looks of town, they needed one. Every day, they were trying to push back the horde and every day they failed. The supernatural had all but taken over Mystic Falls. It was a wonder any humans lingered, let alone that they were alive.

Pouring herself a mug of coffee, she took a seat at the table and, skipping cream, she poured blood into it, giving it a quick stir before she took a good, long pull. Licking her lips, she hummed, and sat back against her seat, staring out the glass door to the backyard. Dressed in a bathrobe, she reveled in how warm she felt, her skin still retaining the heat from the shower. Digging her phone out from her robe pocket, she skimmed through her messages. One from Caroline reminding them when to be there, a few from Jeremy with stats on how many he'd taken out the night before, and one from Alaric, just checking in.

One handed, she thumbed back responses to each and then put her phone aside to enjoy the early morning quiet. She managed all of five minutes before she heard his heartbeat. He was crossing the lawn, dressed in jogging gear, and as soon as the door opened, she could smell the salt in his sweat.

She stared up at him, brows arched and head tipped.

"I know…" He sighed. "We're not supposed to go out alone. But I'm fine. I didn't even run into anyone."

"That's not the point. It's easy to say you didn't run into any trouble _after_. But if you did, nobody would know until it was too late."

"Okay." He wrapped the strings of his headphones around his iPod. "Next time, I'll wake you up."

Her nose scrunched up, and Tyler grinned. "See? Happy I let you sleep in, right?"

"Can you call it sleeping in when I can still hear birds chirping?"

"They do that all morning. You're just used to staying in bed until noon."

Elena hummed. "Yeah, well, I'm spoiled."

"You are." He circled the table to press a kiss to her lips and then winced. "Blood."

"Kinda need it to survive." She pushed up from her seat and dropped another kiss on his cheek. "Take two after I brush my teeth?"

"Sounds good." He walked toward the fridge. "I'm gonna make breakfast. You want any?"

"Do we have enough for that? When was the last time we scavenged the grocery store?"

"We're good, but we should make another run. I'll talk to Matt and Jeremy later. See if we can figure something out."

"Okay. Then yeah, I'll take some eggs… And bacon… And—"

"Extra bacon, I know."

Elena grinned, and rolled her eyes.

It didn't take her long to brush her teeth and change into something else. She decided to just tie her hair up and out of the way rather than go through the whole routine of flat ironing it. By the time she returned to the kitchen, Tyler had a glass of orange juice waiting for her and was fully immersed in cooking.

She slid up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin atop his shoulder. "You really didn't see anyone out there?"

"Aside from a few rabbits? No. They don't come out this far. Honestly, I think the woods freak them out."

"The _woods?_ " She snorted. "What about the werewolves?"

"I don't know. Could be a respect thing. It's not hard to sniff out that another werewolf is around."

"Maybe." But she wasn't convinced. It was weird that nobody came out their way. It wasn't like the Lockwood estate wasn't a prime place for any number of groups to set up. It seemed like a lot of them were forming into their own little packs. Siphons, werewolves, vampires, hybrids, and whatever else was lurking around that they'd yet to put a name to.

"Look, if they come out this way, I'll take care of it." He patted her hand over his stomach. "For now, why don't we just be happy that we have the whole place to ourselves?"

Elena smiled. "Yeah. You're right. We'll handle whatever happens when it comes."

"Which reminds me, Care give you any details on why we're having this meeting?"

"Nope. Just that everyone's going to be there and it's ' _mandatory_.'"

He frowned. "You think this is about that weird witch thing they were looking into?"

"The 'Mother of Magic' stuff?" Her brow furrowed. "No. We all agreed it was too dangerous and too vague…"

" _We_ agreed. Stefan still seemed to think it was a good idea. And Alaric supported the translation."

"Yeah, but… We voted. I mean, they wouldn't just run off and do it anyway, right?"

He turned his head to her, an eyebrow raised. "What do you think?"

Elena sighed.

As if they didn't have _enough_ problems on their plate, now they were going to have another one. _Great_ …

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"We don't have to do this…"

Lydia sat at the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped and her skin clammy. "Don't we?" Her whole body hurt; every strand of hair on her head and every inch of her skin. Her bones felt like they were grinding together every time she moved or breathed or _lived_. But this was necessary.

"Last night was bad. You barely slept. You haven't eaten…" Scott took a seat next to her and reached for her hand. He folded their fingers together and held on tight. "It's okay to admit that it hurts."

"It _does_!" She turned to look at him. "Everything hurts. Mind, body, and all hurts! But sitting here and wishing it didn't is not going to change anything… I don't know why they want to see us. I don't know if somehow they've come up with a plan. But I know that laying in this bed, trying to sleep through the nightmares, isn't going to change anything. So I get it, I know that you care and you're worried, but Scott… We have to do this. _I_ have to do this."

He stared back at a long moment, and then nodded. Standing from the bed, he reached for her, hands tucked gently under her elbows, and he helped her stand on wobbly legs. "Shower?"

"I'm soaked in sweat and probably smell, so yes, _please_."

He smiled at her lightly and hooked an arm low around her waist to help her toward the en suite bathroom. "You smell fine."

Lydia shook her head up at him, mouth inching up at the corner. "Liar."

Scott didn't deny it; he just kissed the top of her head and took the brunt of her weight as they shuffled toward the shower.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

The coffee mug in his hand was hot, he could feel it sinking deep into his skin. It scalded his tongue when he first sipped it, and the bitter taste took some acclimating to, but the sugar helped. Sheila had left early that morning, taking everyone but Malia with her. While he was aware of their presence at the house, he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the family members that had turned up early that morning. By the time he returned, only Malia remained, presumably to keep an eye on him if he turned up.

Skipping a standard greeting, she'd simply said, "There's some breakfast on the stove if you're hungry." Sitting cross-legged in a porch chair, a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, and hash brows piled high in her lap, she seemed to be completely at home.

Damon poured himself a mug of coffee but left the food for her to finish. He took a seat across from her, listening to the birds sing as they bounced from branch to branch in an old, gnarled tree. It was a strange thing, knowing that outside of a mostly empty neighborhood, the rest of the town was in duress, but here they sat, untouched by it for a time.

It was Malia that broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

He glanced at her, and raised an eyebrow. "Is it for a napkin?"

"No." She licked ketchup from her fingers. "It's about your kids."

Damon stiffened. "What about them?"

She shrugged. "Sheila said you had three."

"And?"

"What were they like?"

Directing his gaze to the yard, he rocked the porch chair he was seated in as his mind wandered into the past. If he closed his eyes and really focused, he could hear his daughters laughing. M'kenna's giggle was always a little louder than Neci's, like bells ringing. Neci's laugh was different, raspier, like smoke. And Dysin, slow to laugh, always in his head, a thinker.

"They were children when I died," he mused. "Still small. Still figuring out who they were…"

Malia paused, mid-bite of a sausage. She squirreled her food into her cheek to ask, "How old?"

"Dysin was the oldest… nearly twelve. Then M'Kenna, she was ten. And finally, Neci, just eight." He stared ahead, but his eyes focused on nothing. "It was a friend that warned us; she said they were coming. So we made a choice. We sent the children away with her and we stayed to fight."

"Why didn't you run?" She frowned. "You might've lived."

"If they caught us and we had the children, then they would kill them too. If we stayed, then we increased the chances of saving them."

"You were a distraction…" She stared at him, her brow furrowed. "Did you think you'd live?"

He offered a faint, humorless smile. "I hoped."

"But if you and Bonnie were so powerful… How could they kill you?"

His mouth thinned into a line and his free hand dug in hard against the wicker arm of his chair. "Bonnie had been sick for weeks. We couldn't figure out what it was at first. The food, the water… Everything we had we grew ourselves. Everything but the wine. It was a gift, to thank us for the crops we shared. I didn't care for the taste, too sweet for me, but Bonnie liked it. Over time, it weakened her. She was having dizzy spells. She couldn't keep food down. At first… At first, we thought perhaps she was pregnant…"

He could remember the feeling of hope as it bloomed. The idea that they might have another child. And just how quickly it had vanished, replaced with something dark and grim.

"But something just wasn't right. When our friend came, she told us Bonnie was poisoned, that even if the townspeople didn't catch her, she probably wouldn't make it. I tried to send her off with the children. I thought if she had time, she might mend herself. I would stay and fight the others, give them a chance to flee."

Malia frowned. "But it wasn't you they wanted.."

"No. She was the source of magic. They thought if they killed her and the children, then magic would die and the world would be _cleansed_ …" His eyes darkened and black scales rippled across his face.

"So she stayed, she tried to fight them, too."

He nodded. "But there were too many."

"What about you? You didn't like the wine."

"No. And I killed every one I caught…" He turned to her, fire and blood in his. "Does that scare you?"

She stared back at him a beat and then lifted her chin. "No. I killed. To survive, to eat. I understand it. And I know that if someone hurt my pack, hurt the people I care about, I'd kill them too if I had to."

He hummed, and then his gaze skittered away from her. "When they caught Bonnie, I had no choice but to stop fighting… I couldn't let them kill her. I couldn't be the _reason_ that they did…" His brow knit as his face fell, black scales skittered away to reveal unblemished, marble skin. "So I let them do it. I let them use her to carve me open. I let them pull my heart out. And I forgave her for every cut she made. She never wanted to. She blamed herself for all of it. For being what she was. For creating our children."

"But it wasn't just her…" Malia turned in her seat to frown at him. "You're _something_. I don't know what, but I can smell it. So, if Bonnie is the mother of magic, if she created all of us, then what created _you?_ "

Damon met her eyes and the corner of his mouth hitched up. "The way the story goes, an angel fell from the sky and saw the state of man. The trees rotted where they stood, the oceans dried to craters, the mountains crumbled to dust. The angel came upon a woman, and in her arms was a baby. The child was sick; her lungs rattled with death. The woman begged the angel to save her child, to exchange her own life for that of her daughter's if that's what it took. And the angel took pity. She wept for the dying earth and the desperate mother and the sick baby. The tear became a seed. The seed fed the baby. And the child lived. 'She will be one of hope,' the angel said, and so it was. The baby became a girl and then a woman; she gave life to the earth as it was given to her. Years would pass, and when the mother died the angel returned. If Hope was to survive, she would need protection, and so the angel offered her son. He would stay on earth and keep Hope safe from anything that should do her harm…"

"So, you're the son of an _angel…_?" She looked him over, dressed all in black. "You don't _look_ like an angel."

"The son of an angel, yes. But a fallen angel. One of your most _famous_ ones, I think. You call her by many names. Satan. Lucifer. The Devil… Personally, I've found she responds better to 'mother.'"

Malia's eyes widened.

"So you see, I'm not an angel or a witch or a vampire. I'm what you might call a demon." He stared at her curiously. "So I ask you again, child of my blood… Does that scare you?"

Malia swallowed, and then dropped her gaze to her lap. It took her a beat, and then another, before she raised her head and asked, "Does it scare _you_?"

Damon smiled, and leaned back in his seat. "Sometimes."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

In the parlor of the boarding house, a strange collection of people milled together. Vampires, witches, werewolves, humans, hunters, a were-coyote and a banshee stood in wait.

In one corner, Braeden sat with her feet atop a table while she cleaned her gun. Beside her, Derek and Alaric were skimming through a number of old, musty books, always in search of some shred of hope. She knocked her boot against Derek's book and watched as his mouth inched up in a faint smile. He was a hot nerd, she'd give him that.

Across the room, Stiles was pacing while he chewed on his thumbnail. He'd been even more twitchy since they'd made the move over to Mystic Falls. Braeden thought Beacon Hills was bad, but this was a whole new level of screwed up. Growing up in Mystic Falls, it had always been just this side of boring to her, but she'd left long before things took a turn for the worse.

A good decade older than half of the people in the room, she felt a little out of sorts talking strategy with these people. But Grams trusted them, to a degree, and had made it clear that the only way any of them were going to survive was if they stuck together.

"Hey, you got any more of those?"

Braeden arched an eyebrow at her cousin. "If I give you a gun, Aunty's going to snatch my soul right out of my body. And we've got enough hoo-doo problems as it is. We don't need to add that to pile."

Jamie rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to defend myself if nobody lets me?"

"You're a _witch_ , genius. Figure something out."

"Little hard when you only have a twenty percent chance of knowing what it is that's attacking you…"

She snorted. "Pretty sure an aneurysm will put down just about everything."

"Whatever, a gun would be quicker."

"Not if you shoot your own foot off."

Stiles finally came to a stop in the center of the room and tossed his arms up. "Does _anybody_ know what we're doing here…? Anyone? No? Because just a thought, having all of us here in one place feels a _lot_ like a trap. Think about it! Everybody in this room is trying to change this thing. If someone wanted to get rid of us, all they'd have to do is light a fire and watch us burn."

Derek flipped a page in his books and sighed. "It's not a trap. Caroline asked us to be here."

"We _think_ it was Caroline…" Stiles waved a finger around meaningfully. "A text isn't exactly proof of anything."

"Is my face?" Caroline walked into the room, a large grimoire held in her arms. "Sorry we're late, we had to pick this up from the college."

Scott frowned from his seat on the couch. "I thought we already talked about that? We decided it was too dangerous. That we couldn't guarantee what it would wake up…"

By the fireplace, Tyler and Elena exchanged a knowing look.

Caroline bit her lip and glanced at Stefan, who came to a stop next to her, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. "About that… We already did."

" _What!?_ " a chorus of voices broke out, talking over each other, complaining, and worrying.

Alaric poured himself a glass of bourbon, already looking _done_. With a cheers, he knocked back the whole glass and poured another.

Braeden rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She was already way past this part; she wanted to skip the whole 'inform everybody about the latest colossal fuck-up' and move on to the 'how do we fix it' part.

As the noise level only increased, Tyler finally put his fingers between his lips and whistled. The sharp noise caused everyone to quiet and turn to him. "Obviously none of us are happy about it, but arguing doesn't solve shit, so why don't find out what _happened_."

As a collective, the group turned to Stefan and Caroline.

"Well?"

"We, uh… We woke up a demon."

"Oh my God… Oh my _God!_ " Stiles started to pace. "A demon!? H-How does that even happen? How do you just…? _Why?_ Why are we here? Why does this keep happening?"

Rubbing at her temples, Lydia looked up at the couple tiredly. "What does that _mean?_ "

"His name is Damon. He was— _is_ the husband of the first witch," Stefan explained.

"Apparently, a bunch of humans got paranoid and decided they had to kill her and her entire family. They sent the children away, which is why all of us are here. But Damon, that's the demon, he was killed, and Bonnie, the first witch, she was killed, too. We don't know where she was buried. But the translation in the book was wrong. It didn't mean that Bonnie was a demon, it meant that to find her we had to wake up _Damon_. He's the only one that knows where she is. Except, if we wake her up, she may or may not, well, _kill_ everybody. Which he's kind of okay with… But, I mean, _technically_ everybody already _is_ killing each other, so it's not just going to stop." She waved her arms around, and shook her head. "Long story short, we need to convince Damon to wake her up and make her _not_ kill us."

Everybody stared at her a beat.

And then Elena turned to Stefan. "Can we have some more details?"

Stefan sighed. "Look, we've all wondered what it is, exactly, that's been pulling you all here, and now we know. Bonnie's powers are leeching into the earth. More, they're sinking into the ley lines. Damon said it was like a beacon. It was calling everybody with a magical energy back to what amounts to, well, their mother… Being the first witch, everybody that was born of Bonnie's blood line was magical in some way. Over the years, those witches created other species. The werewolves and the banshees and every other supernatural being out there; good, bad, and evil. It's taken some time, but we think her grief and her pain have been calling out to us. Bringing us here, to her. To wake her up or to comfort her or something. I don't know. But Damon thinks that when she wakes up, when she sees what became of her magic, what it created, and that we're all destroying each other, she'll snap and she'll level the whole state… If not more."

"Wow…" Elena pushed her hair back behind her ears, her brow furrowed. "But… You still think we should wake her up? _Why?_ "

"I think, if we can get Damon on our side, we can make this better. Damon said that Bonnie is powerful enough that she can control these people, she can… She can tell them what to do, make them stop all of this…"

Tyler scoffed. "Right, except for the part where he's okay with us _dying_."

"He's said that, yes," Stefan admitted, "but I don't think he meant it. I think _he_ thinks that. But I also think he's just like Bonnie. He's grieving. He had three children and he was torn away from them. He's angry and he misses his family and he wants someone to pay for that."

"What if you're wrong?" Matt stood, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Matt…" Sarah tugged on the end of his shirt.

"No. I'm serious. What if we wake her up and she _kills_ all of us?"

Stefan nodded. "It's a possibility."

"But you think Damon can change her mind…" Scott sat forward, resting his arms on his knees. "So what do we have to do to make that happen?"

Stefan shook his head. "I don't know. Which is why you're all here. Look, I know that this looks like just one more problem, and I'm sure a lot of you blame me—"

Caroline elbowed him

"— _us_ , for creating it. But I still think that this is a real option. It's not perfect, but it's something. And maybe, together, we can figure this out."

Derek closed the book in front of him, and nodded. "Okay."

Slowly, each and every person seemed to give in, and stepped up to offer their ideas.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _ugh, this felt like such a filler chapter, i'm sorry, but it was necessary!_

 _i don't know why, but i've always kind of liked the idea of tyler/elena, and this just felt like the right story to add them to, lol. anyway, i hope you liked their scenes. personally, my favorite part of this chapter is malia and damon and when he tells her how the 'story' went and just the general reveal that his mother is, well, the devil. :))) also the braeden/derek moment, it was small, but i love those two and i wish they'd had more time to be awesome on screen._

 _again, a reminder that i have a cast page up on my tumblr ( **sarcasticfina** is my name over there, add **/apocalypse** to the end of the url) for those of you who **a)** might not be familiar with teen wolf, and **b)** might just want to see how some of these people look. it's a lot of characters to keep up with._

 _for those of you wondering why no waking up bonnie yet: **a)** the team really wants to prepare for that at least kind of, **b)** damon's reasons will be revealed in the next chapter, and **c)** to build up suspense! ;) _

_please try to drop some feedback/comments on this story. i love hearing from you and i'm really in love with this particular story!_

 _thank you so much for reading,_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	6. last resort

**chapter rating** : pg-13 **  
word count** : 4,647

* * *

 **vi.**

Damon wasn't sleeping. He was still fully aware of everything that was happening around him. He could hear Malia's steady heartbeat and the clink of cutlery against the sink as she did the dishes. He could also hear the worried heart of a neighbor four houses over and across the street. He could smell their sweat and body odor, clearly having been hidden away in their house, afraid to leave for days, maybe weeks. There were a pair of starving cats walking down an alley a block over, digging in fetid garbage for any bit of food. Beyond that, the supernatural were keeping their distance, congregating deeper in town.

Sitting on the porch, his eyes closed, he kept his senses awake and aware, but his mind slipped elsewhere…

 _"A fourth?" Damon's head rested in her lap while he dragged his fingers across her bare stomach._

 _Bonnie was propped up in bed, folded blankets stacked behind her head and shoulders. "I'm not certain. But I've been ill lately. My head spins sometimes."_

 _"You're sure it's not simply my presence that makes your head spin?"_

 _She laughed, and reached for him, sliding her hand up his forearm. "That, too."_

 _He grinned, and let his fingers trace along the line of her ribs, sweeping them down, under her navel. "You wish for a fourth? You already fear so much for the three we have…"_

 _"The world is not kind to anything different. Anyone born of us can be nothing_ but _different."_

 _"And better for it."_

 _"In their hearts, their minds, yes. But the townspeople fear power they have no control over."_

 _"They can fear all they like, it won't change a thing."_

 _"Won't it?" She stroked her fingers through his hair. "Can our children be happy if they live their lives in the shadows? Worried that anything they might do will invite suspicion and hatred."_

 _"Our children are happy. I can hear them laughing right now…"_

 _She smiled. "Because we shelter them from the others. We have surrounded them in a world of love and acceptance, so they never know how the others think of them."_

 _"And we always will, so they will always be content." He turned over, pressed a kiss to her stomach, and climbed up their bed to lay beside her. "What of you? Are you happy?"_

 _Bonnie looked up at him, her mouth turned up faintly. "I will tell you how much when my head stops spinning from your very presence."_

 _Damon laughed, and leaned down to press a kiss to her upturned lips._

 _Bonnie arched up, pressing her chest to his own, and turning him over so he lay beneath her. Fingers buried in his hair, she held his head steady as she leaned back, just enough that the tip of her nose grazed his. "I never knew happiness so bright as the day I knew your love. And I will carry it with me always."_

 _"That seems fair, as I will always love you."_

 _"Sweet words from a sweet man."_

 _His nose wrinkled. "I am hardly sweet."_

 _"Liar." She smiled as she kissed him. "I have seen your soul, demon, and it is pure."_

 _He reached up and caught her face in his palms. "Purity is a matter of perspective. Whatever kindness or goodness or love lies in me, it lives only for you. For you and our children. Without you, what purpose would I have for a soul at all?"_

 _She shook her head and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. "I know you. I know your heart."_

 _"You know my heart when it's a partner to yours, not when it's bereft of you."_

 _"We are all capable of terrible acts. You have made your fair share in the past. What matters is the choices you make in the present and the future."_

 _"The only choice I make is to be here, with you, to give our children the best lives they could possibly want for."_

 _"And you have."_

 _"And I will." He pressed a hand to her stomach. "A fourth. A hundredth. A_ thousandth _. However many we bring into this world, I will stand for them all. Against fear and hate and all else that seeks to harm them."_

 _Bonnie's eyes softened. "And I will stand with you."_

 _"Forever?"_

 _"Forever."_

"Are you taking a catnap?"

Damon's eyes snapped open and turned toward a curious Malia, leaning in the doorway of the house, a brow raised.

"I was thinking."

"Of?"

He stood from his seat. "How do you feel about going for a little walk?"

Her eyes narrowed. "We're not supposed to go anywhere…"

"Says who?"

She pursed her lips.

Damon walked down the porch stairs to the lawn.

With a sigh, Malia followed.

* * *

The group had been arguing about their plan for an hour and so far, they had little to go with. Admittedly, part of the issue was just how differently each of them were coming at the problem.

"I know it's not a popular idea, but why don't we just kill her?" Jeremy shrugged, looking unperturbed by the collection of faces staring at him, ranging from understanding to outright disgust. "Look, she's the reason that everybody came here. We dig her up, destroy the body, and it's done. It's not pretty, but it's smart."

Stiles pointed a thumb over to Jeremy. "He's got a _point_ …"

" _Stiles_." Scott sighed.

"What!? Not to be apocalyptic, but this _is_ the apocalypse we're talking about. And the only reason it's knocking at our door right now is because of her… Eliminate the cause, the problem goes away."

"You're talking about killing someone. Someone who hasn't actually done _anything_ to us. Stefan said that Bonnie wasn't calling to us on purpose."

"Intent isn't up for discussion here. The road to hell, all right?" He shook his head. "Look, I'm not saying I want to be the one to do it, I'm just saying that we need to seriously consider what it means… If we let her live, if we just wait around to see how she feels about things, what are we really doing?"

"Not to mention, this Bonnie chick didn't just create the people in this room," Jeremy added. "Her children created everything else out there, too. Are we supposed to ignore that? That kind of evil had to come from somewhere. I mean, she had kids with a literal _demon_."

"And her children were all _good_." Sheila stood a little taller by the fireplace. "Let's not put everything terrible in the world at the feet of the supernatural. If it wasn't for humans getting worried about their place on the food chain, we wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place."

Jeremy's eyes narrowed. "What's _that_ supposed to be mean?"

" _Jer_ …" Elena warned.

"No. I want to hear this." He waved a dismissive hand in her direction and focused on Sheila. "You think humans _deserve_ this? It's just, what, penance for our history?"

Sheila met his angry stare with one of her own. "I think humans react when they should sit down, shut up, and _learn_ … Bonnie was given a gift, she shared that gift with the world. The way Damon tells it, the earth wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for her. She reclaimed this world from the edge of extinction and it repaid her by killing her and her husband and forcing her children to scatter to the wind." Looking between Jeremy and Stiles, she pursed her lips. "You see a problem now and you want to get rid of it, but maybe try learning from the mistakes of your ancestors. They tried to kill her once. Look at where we are now."

The room was tense and quiet for a beat, before Stiles raised a finger. " _Technically_ , we had a pretty good run before she retaliated. So if we put her down, I mean, we avoid this apocalypse and leave it for the next group."

Sheila scoffed. "Were any of you listening? She's spent this whole time in wait, her powers leeching into the ley lines, you don't think they're giving that power right back to her…? When she wakes up, she'll be even more powerful than she was before."

Jeremy threw a hand up. "More reason to get rid of her now!"

Braeden snorted from her seat at the table, fiddling with a hunting knife absently. "What makes you think she'd _let_ you?"

Everybody turned to look at her, curiously.

"She's not dead. She's like Damon. She's been in… _stasis_. For all we know, if you try to kill her, _that's_ what'll wake her up. At the very least, her power will lash out. She didn't survive this long without some kind of protective measure in place."

"Well, I still stay we keep it on the table." Stiles crossed his arms and shrugged. "We don't know what she'll do when she wakes up, but we do know she's not going to be happy."

"Fine. It's not of the table," Scott allowed. "But it's a last resort.

* * *

Stefan found Caroline the kitchen, fussing over a platter of crackers, cheese, and sliced up meats. "Are you making snack plates…?"

She glanced up at him and sighed. "I need to keep busy. I'm listening, I know what everybody's talking about, but I needed a break."

Humming, he nodded, and came around the island counter to stand next to her. "You want some help?"

"No. Thank you, really. I just…"

"It helps you focus."

"Yeah." She half-smiled up at him. "Is that weird?"

"I'm pretty sure our entire lives at this point classify as 'weird.'"

She laughed. "It's crazy, right? I mean, the apocalypse is happening right outside our door, and we're here trying to figure out how to stop it. When did our lives become this?"

"Around the same time we met…" He winced. "Sometimes I think coming home was what started the ball rolling on all of this."

"Okay." She rolled her eyes. "Way to be self-involved."

He smiled. "You don't think this is partly on me?"

She knocked her elbow against his arm. "I mean, the Katherine stuff. Maybe. A little bit. She definitely had some kind of Stefan-fever going on."

"Stefan-fever," he repeated, grinning.

"Shut up… I just mean, she was, well, kind of obsessed with you. So her coming here, yes, in a distant way, your fault. Except not, because her obsession was really on her, not you… Anyway, all the other stuff, I don't want to call it dumb luck, but… Elena never asked to be a doppelganger and considering this town was apparently the center of where magic was created, I feel like you can't really take responsibility for that."

"Even though I'm a very distant relative of the father of magic?"

She snorted. "Technically, we all are. Although, if you think about it, vampires would be related more through 'infection.' Witches are born into their line. We're created through blood sharing. So we're more like weird adopted cousins."

Laughing, he shook his head. "Interesting way of seeing it."

"Whatever. You know what I mean." She pushed the meat and cheese plate away and moved to a platter of vegetables that needed cutting up. "What do you think about what Jeremy and Stiles are saying? About killing her before she has a chance to get out of control."

Stefan tapped his fingers against the counter and frowned. "I understand where they're coming from."

" _But_ …?"

"But… I don't know. A part of me just can't see these people as the origins of evil. I mean, the way Damon talked about her, about his children…"

"Grief does weird things to people though. Maybe it wasn't how they started, but after what happened to them, after how people turned on them, what if that _made_ them evil?"

"I don't know. I… I look at my past, as a Ripper, and a part of me wonders if it's because all of this trickled down from them. Am I a Ripper because part of the magic in me stems from a demon? Or am I a Ripper because I drew the short straw?" He sighed. "And then I look at you, at how far you've come, how much happier you are being a vampire, and I wonder if maybe it was always meant to be like this. Maybe this was how magic was meant to be shared. If Bonnie is the mother of all magic, shouldn't we expect her to embody everything we expect of mothers? Kindness, love, acceptance… I don't know. There's just a part of me, after all of this, that feels like I have to believe there's something _good_ in them. Otherwise what chance do the rest of us have?"

"Stefan…" Caroline turned to face him. She reached out and laid a palm over his heart. "We aren't where we came from or who made us. Every day you make the choice not to let that part of you take over, you do everything you can not to become the Ripper. And that's you. That's not anybody else. Whoever they are, whatever they do, that's on them. We— We drink from blood bags and we avoid hurting people whenever possible and we are living our lives the best way we know how, helping as many people as we can. Being a vampire, I mean, it's a part of us. Their magic is a part of us. But it doesn't _make_ us… You're a _good_ man, and it has nothing to do with First Witches or demons or any of that. It's just who you are, who you've always been, and who you always will be."

Stefan stared at her a long moment, and then covered her hand with his own, his fingers sliding between hers. He opened his mouth, to say what, neither were sure. The door to the kitchen swung open, and Lucy walked through.

"Not here to judge, just really need something to eat."

"Oh!" Caroline jumped back a step, and then turned, and grabbed up the meats and cheeses platter. "Here. Um, there's a vegetable plate coming, too. And I'll bring some fruit out, if you want."

"Cool. Thanks." Lucy took the platter and then turned on her heel to leave.

As the door swung closed once more, Caroline turned to him with an awkward smile. " _So_ …"

"So."

"How you feel about making a fruit salad?" she suggested, brightening.

Stefan shook his head, but smiled. "Sure."

"Great!"

* * *

"What've you found? Anything?"

"Only a monumental lack of patience for any of this." Klaus closed his book with a snap and stared up at his brother, brows arched. "How sure are you that this Damon is anything more than a witch? So, he blew up a car and maimed a few people. I've done worse this week and that was just out of boredom."

"Klaus, really, after all this time…" With a suffering sigh, Elijah shook his head. "You couldn't feel it, that energy he was giving off? And the strange scales on his face, I've never seen anything like it…"

"We hadn't seen half the creatures roaming the streets these days, and you haven't cared a whit about them."

"It's different." Crossing the room to his desk, Elijah took a seat in the tall-backed chair. "While you've been terrorizing the locals, I've been trying to find a _reason_ behind why we've been brought here in the first place. Why here, why now?"

" _And?_ "

"And everyone's story is the same. They had an urgent need to be here, as if something was calling to them. They had no idea why or who, but for all of them to be experiencing the same thing…"

"So the apocalypse comes to Mystic Falls… What _fun_."

"It _starts_ in Mystic Falls… There's no telling how far it'll spread, or who it will destroy."

"If that's true, we could be called here for survival. A magical overtaking. Finally put those _fussy_ humans in their place."

Elijah blinked, and then turned to look at his brother.

"What?"

"You could be right…"

"About?"

"We've been assuming that we were called here because it's the end of days. The town's gone mad because they don't think there's any consequences left. We're all bound to die in the aftermath anyway. How did the prophecy go…? 'And the sinful will be judged.' We presumed it was us, and we were brought here to pay for our sins. But if we were called here for another reason… What if we're not the judged?"

Klaus smirked, slow and feral. "No, we're the executioners…"

* * *

Tyler was standing behind Elena, his hands gently rubbing her shoulders. Brow furrowed, he finally put a voice to the thoughts circling in his head. "What if we're looking at this wrong?"

Scott looked over at him from his seat on the sofa. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we're all assuming that this Bonnie chick is going to see all of these people and what they've done and be so disgusted that she destroys them… But what if it's the opposite?"

Stiles shook his head. "What, she's gonna cry tears of joy and start singing kumbaya?"

"No, but think about it…" Elena started nodding. "Damon is grieving his children. He was torn away from them but he knows they lived. They had to because we're all here. But Bonnie is a witch. The _first_ witch. And the people hunting her wanted to kill her so this, _we_ , wouldn't happen. But we did. So what if instead of being disappointed, she's relieved that her bloodline survived, that even if she doesn't have her children, she has all of us…"

"I think we're forgetting the part where at least half of the town is psychotic killers…" Stiles threw his arms out. "Is she gonna invite them to the family reunion, too?"

"Maybe not the in the traditional way, but she might not turn them away either…" Sheila tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Damon said his children were gifted. That it was Neci's connection to fire that made the townspeople afraid of them. But Bonnie didn't turn her daughter away. She didn't see her as _evil_. She loved her anyway."

"But that was her daughter." Jeremy shook his head. "Her real, flesh and blood _daughter_ … She doesn't know any of us. We're disposable."

"Are we?" Sheila turned to look at him. "At Bonnie's core, she's a mother." She paused, looking struck for a moment. "And Damon is a father…"

"What are you thinking?" Stefan wondered.

"That if we can tap into that, into that protective measure of his, like that night, when he protected me from the others, we can fix this… If Damon sees the good in these people, in us, then he'll want to protect us, and Bonnie might just follow in his footsteps."

"Again, we're forgetting the threat here!" Stiles reminded, raising his hand to get attention.

"Stiles is right." Scott sighed. "I'm not saying that we get to play judge and jury here, but not everyone in this town is _safe_ …"

"Thank you!"

"Well, what do you propose?" Tyler asked, looking between the two.

They exchanged a look, and then shrugged.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just here to be a voice of reason…"

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'd say you get used to it, but you don't."

* * *

"Where are we going?" Malia hurried to keep pace with Damon. "Braeden told me not to leave the house; she gets mad when I go exploring. She says it's not safe."

"I'm tired of sitting around. Aren't you?"

"Yeah… But they told me to keep an eye on you. They're worried you'll go looking for Bonnie." She paused. "I don't think I was supposed to tell you that."

His mouth twitched. "Probably not. But if it makes you feel better, I'm not looking for Bonnie… Not yet."

"Why?" Her brow furrowed. "Don't you want to see her?"

Damon paused his steps, and turned to look at her. "Of course."

"Then shouldn't you be doing everything you can to wake her up? When I liked Stiles, I would've done anything to keep him safe… Even if it wasn't the right thing to do." Her eyes fell. "I don't always know what's right or wrong. That kind of thing confuses me sometimes."

He nodded. "Me too." He turned and started walking again.

Malia sighed and followed after him.

"You're talking differently," she noticed. "Before, you sounded… I don't know. Weird. Now you sound more normal."

"It takes time to adapt. The more time I spend here, the more I adapt. I absorb the vernacular and the slang and mimic it. Not everything fits with what I know. There are words that we used to use that don't have any translation now. But I'm learning."

Malia shrugged. "Whatever works for you."

"What about you? Was it different after you turned back?"

"Some of it was. When I was a coyote, I didn't have to worry about hurting people's feelings or doing the wrong thing. I only had to look out for myself."

"Were you lonely?"

She bit her lip. "Sometimes. Sometimes I miss it."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't have anyone to disappoint…"

"It's a catch-22, isn't it? Nobody to hurt, but nobody to care either." He looked over at her. "I know the feeling."

She stared up at him. "Is that why you're not waking her up? You think she'll be mad at you? For what? Not saving her? Not keeping them all safe?"

"I'm starting to see what you mean about being careful how you word things…" Damon sighed. "All of the above, I suppose. It was my job to protect them, and I failed."

"But you did! You kept the children safe. You let her kill you so they wouldn't hurt her… You did everything you could."

Damon didn't answer, but Malia persisted.

"Hey!" She grabbed at his elbow and turned him to face her. "My family died because of me. Because of who my birth mother was. I carried that guilt. I lived as an animal for _years_ , because I couldn't face what I'd done. Because I hated myself. But turning back, becoming human again, finding a pack and making friends and forgiving myself, I _had_ to do it. Because you can't hide forever. You can't bury yourself in your guilt. It doesn't help. It doesn't make any of it better. It just hurts you. And that's not going to make Bonnie happy." She stabbed a finger against his chest. "You forgave her for every cut, _you_ said that. So what makes you think she won't forgive you, too?"

"It's not that she won't… It's that she shouldn't."

* * *

The Bennetts all stood clustered around an antique table. After the back and forth between everyone, it was clear they needed to talk separately.

Lucy didn't bother beating around the bush. She turned to her aunt and said, point-blank, "We found the witch's grave."

"We _think_ ," Abby corrected.

Sheila looked between them. "Explain."

"Last night, when we were coming through the woods, we got a little turned around," Jamie said. "We ended up falling into this pit of flowers. Luce said that was a sign a witch was buried there. Stronger the witch, the more flowers there were. This thing was _overflowing_ with 'em."

Sheila's eyes widened and her brows hiked. "Where in the woods?"

"Not that far from Lockwood Manor." Lucy frowned. "It was strange. It was like the crows were leading us there… Like they wanted us to find her."

"Maybe they do…" Sheila cast a quick look back toward the rest of the group, each milling in their own little groups. "We can't tell them."

"Mama…" Abby shook her head. "The whole reason we're here is for transparency. They tell us what they know and we do the same. That's why all these people are here in the first place." She wrinkled her nose. "I wouldn't be working with vampires if I didn't think there was a benefit to it."

"You _heard_ what they said. Half of this group isn't sure if they want to kill her where she lays or wake her up."

"What do _you_ want to do?" Lucy stared at her aunt curiously. "You sound like you like this witch… _And_ the demon she was hitched to."

"Damon is strange, I won't argue that. But I know grief when I see it, and that's easily half of his anger… Regardless of whether I think Bonnie is good or not, Braeden made a good point. She's survived this long, and she's clearly powerful enough to call everyone here. There's no telling what she'll do if we try to kill her."

"So what's the plan?" Braeden crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair. "We keep it to ourselves, but for how long?"

"I don't know. I just think we need to tread carefully here… Until we know what everyone's intentions are, we can't be making rash decisions."

Braeden glanced toward Jeremy Gilbert, who was pacing near the fireplace, eyeing them suspiciously. "Well, we need to do something. Some of these people are _hunters_. They don't like just sitting around…"

Sheila pressed her lips together and nodded shortly. "We need to talk to Damon."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. " _Why_?"

"Because. He's made it clear he'd be happy to bring his wife back, so why hasn't he?"

Each of them looked at each other and then back to Sheila before nodding agreeably.

"Great. So we find out what the demon's doing, and then we dig up a witch…" Lucy half-grinned. "Good thing I skipped this month's manicure."

* * *

Across the room, clustered around the table, the witches congregated, arguing about something nobody else could hear, having cast a spell to keep the others from listening in.

Stiles eyed them suspiciously, but then focused his attention back on his phone. With a frustrated sigh, he walked over to Lydia and Scott. "Uh, guys, not to raise the alarm or anything, but… every time I call Malia, it goes straight to voice mail…"

"You should try." Lydia pressed her shoulder to Scott's.

Nodding, he dug his phone out from his jeans and dialed. It rang a few times, but eventually went to voice mail. He typed out a text, asking for her to check in. Just as he was about to put his phone away, it dinged.

 _– Green_

A while back, the group had agreed that a color system for whether or not they were safe would be easier than texting about a whole situation as it was happening. Green for fine, yellow for unsure, and red for danger.

"She says she's okay. I trust Malia. If she needs us, she'll let us know."

Stiles didn't look convinced, but he let it go. He still texted his own worried message to Malia as he crossed the room, tongue stuck between his teeth.

"You're worried," Lydia said quietly. She dropped her chin to his shoulder, tucked her arm under his and braided their fingers together, hands resting atop his knee.

"We left Malia alone with someone we don't know. Someone who was resurrected _yesterday_ …" He frowned. "I _do_ trust her, and I know she's doing whatever she can to help. But this situation is a lot more complicated than I thought it'd be."

Lydia stared up at him. "I know we need to be here for a reason. I know that we're here to help. But sometimes I wish I didn't. I wish I couldn't feel it, couldn't hear her voice calling us…"

"I know." He squeezed her hand and turned to smile at her, comforting to no end. "If this is where we're meant to be, then I'm glad we're here. I just really hope we're making the right choices."

Lydia's smile was subdued. "We won't know until it's over."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **some notes:**

 **1)** _to clear up any confusion, i was asked: "does that mean Bonnie is the child that was saved by Satan? Or did Damon meet her way later?" yes, she was. bonnie was born human and while the world was dying, so was she. apollyon (she goes by "polly" now), the angel/devil, took pity and cried – her tear became a seed and that seed was fed to bonnie. the seed was one of magic and it made bonnie into the first witch. as she grew up, she then gave life back to the earth just as life was given to her. damon met bonnie yeeears later, when bonnie's mother passed away and polly worried that bonnie would be unprotected, so she sent damon to be bonnie's protector. while protecting her, they fell in love and went on to have a family._

 **2)** _the flashback in the beginning of the chapter is set a few weeks before the town attacks. so when they're talking about bonnie being dizzy and weak, it's a throwback to the previous chapter, when damon said that the poison they'd given bonnie via wine made her ill, and at first they thought she was pregnant. so this is a moment that, out of context, seems really sweet, but you also know that in reality she wasn't pregnant and it was actually an attempt on her life. bittersweet, for sure. still, it allows some insight into damon and his relationship with bonnie_

 **3)** _i feel like the reason for not waking bonnie is really simple, and a few of you were probably expecting something bigger. but as we found out in the last chapter, damon was sent to be bonnie's protector. falling in love with her and having a family was not part of the package, but it definitely made him feel even more protective. in a lot of ways, he feels like he failed her and their children. he sent the kids away and hoped they would be okay, but they were left without both parents. he tried to fight the townspeople, but they caught bonnie and he laid down arms, effectively making the choice to die with and for his wife rather than fight and have to see them kill her, which again, meant that not even one of them might survive to raise their kids. he just second guesses every choice he made and he's afraid that when she's awake, he won't be worth her forgiveness. because even though he knows her and he knows she'll forgive him, he doesn't forgive himself. so that was my thinking when i wrote it this way._

 **4)** _we see from the little snippet around the witches that the rest of the group is not aware that abby/lucy/jamie found the grave, so they still think they need damon to even find bonnie. it was only after abby/lucy/jamie realized the demon was raised and the witch was out there that they put two and two together. for sheila, she really is giving damon the benefit of the doubt here and i think, like stefan, she wants to believe that their origins are good and not evil._

 **5)** _i know these last couple chapters have been kind of slow, but the next one really deviates from that. damon is out and about and he gets into some trouble, as he does. we also get to see what kai's been up to._

 _finally, this is just a reminder that i'm updating a lot quicker than i usually do, so it's really appreciated that you guys leave a review. the last chapter was the lowest reviews i've gotten so far. for me, updating every two days is definitely a record. i know some people will wait a little longer to read a few chapters at once or, since they know the next one is coming, they don't bother reviewing, but it's really a big encouragement. so please, if you can, try to leave a comment!_

 _thanks so much for reading!_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	7. disrespect

**chapter rating** : mature  
 **warnings** : explicit violence, gore, death (not main characters)  
 **word count** : 3,482

* * *

 **vii.**

To the average eye, the center of town was empty. The streets appeared bare, a veritable ghost town, with abandoned cars and burnt out stores on every corner. What few windows and doors weren't broken were boarded up. But as much as it looked like there was no one around, Damon knew they were out there. He could hear their heartbeats and smell their magic; it sprinkled the air like a trail of bread crumbs for him to follow, branching off in various directions. For the most part, those who lingered nearby, gave him and Malia a wide berth.

Malia was tense, every muscle coiled. She sniffed at the air and cast narrowed eyes down alleyways, where reflective blue eyes blinked back at her and long, white teeth flashed threateningly.

She sneered back, but kept her pace at Damon's side.

"Ignore them."

"They _stink_." Her nose wrinkled. "We're not safe out here. They can attack from behind."

Damon simply smiled. "They won't."

Turning to him, she frowned. "Why?"

"They want to live too much."

Malia paused in her steps, briefly reminded of his roots, and then she caught back up to him and raised her chin, defiant of the hidden eyes keeping watch.

They passed block after block, and nobody managed to crawl out from the shadows. Maybe it was because they wanted to see where they were going or what they might do. Maybe they planned to corner them elsewhere, in a place they might have a better advantage. Whatever their reasons, Damon wasn't bothered.

In the meantime, he led Malia to the Mystic Grill. Stefan had fond memories of drinking in the establishment and Damon wanted something to take the edge off. The more time that passed, the more he was reminded that he was ignoring his duty. But it would have to wait; he needed a drink.

It seemed others had this same thought, as there were a number of people inside. Vampires collected by the pool tables. The windows had been stained black to keep sunlight from entering. Hybrids filled the tables below, eating and casting suspicious glances to the others. In between the two was a blend of different species with distinct smells. Here it would seem some level of peace was expected, while no one liked each other, they would tolerate one another for a time. Each pretended they were unbothered by the others presence, but the tension filling the room was thick.

Damon cast a quick, dismissive look around before walking to the bar. He tapped it with his knuckles, and took a seat on a stool.

Malia was a little more unsure, looking around to gauge the room as she sat with him. "Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely." He looked to the man behind the bar. "Bourbon, please. And something with a little less bite for my friend."

"Water." Malia shifted in her seat to keep an eye on the others. "I don't think they like you…"

"They don't know me." Damon took the glass of bourbon from the man and finished half. "They're just reacting to my power. It's a little… _dark_."

Malia frowned. "I haven't noticed anything like that."

"That's because it's not directed at you."

Damon twisted in his seat, knocked back the rest of his drink, and smirked at a familiar vampire currently twisting a pool cue between his hands. Chad, one of the others called him. He was with the group from the night before, that had attacked Sheila for fun, and now that he had a few more of his people with him, it seemed Chad wanted another chance to stroke his own ego.

"Should I be talking you out of doing something right now?" Malia wondered.

Damon shook his head. "You couldn't if you tried." With that, he turned around on his stool, and grinned as the vampires started toward him.

 _"You!_ "

Damon raised an eyebrow. " _Me_."

Chad snapped the cue stick he was holding over his knee and twisted each piece over the back of his hands to catch them once more in his palms.

Damon's mouth turned up faintly at the corner. "Parlor tricks are cute, but do you really want to bet your life on them?"

Chad smirked and motioned to the group of ten or so vampires at his back "You think you can take all of us?"

"I think I can level this entire room." Damon back the rest of his drink and dropped the glass back to the bar with a clatter. "I'm still deciding if I want to or not…"

Malia pushed off her stool to stand next to him, eyes flashing blue as they darted from one vampire to the next, a growl building up in the back of her throat.

"Look! He has a pet!" One of the vampires sniffed at the air mockingly. "What're you gonna do, pussycat?"

"She's a coyote. And if she wants to, she'll tear your throat out with her teeth I'd advise you not to be disrespectful… Now, we're only here for a drink. So, I'm going to give you one last opportunity to rethink this." He turned dark eyes on the leader of the group. "I gave you an option once before. Leave the witch alone, I wouldn't hurt you. You ran then… Cowardice suits you."

"That bitch had it coming," Chad snarled, his face twisting into a ghoulish display.

Black scales flared out across Damon's face and down his neck, fiery lines of orange and red pulsing between them. "You wouldn't even _exist_ if a witch didn't take pity and create your kind… That alone deserves respect." He stood from his stool and took a step forward, eyeing Chad dismissively. "I can rectify her mistake if you'd like."

Chad paused, and looked back to his friends. They were all shifting, a little uncertain now, but then pride got the better of them.

"Fuck the witch, and fuck you, too." Chad thrust his arm forward, stabbing the broken pool cue at Damon's stomach.

But the wood didn't penetrate his skin; rather, it left only an unattractive hole in his shirt. The wood splintered, falling to pieces that littered the floor at his feet.

Damon glanced down and smoothed a hand over the fabric. "I liked this shirt." In a flash, he tore both ends of the pool cue from Chad's hands and stuck then down on either side of Chad's neck. Blood spurted in fantastic fashion, spraying up Damon's arms.

Sinking down to his knees, Chad choked on his own blood as it climbed his throat and bubbled on his lips. Not quite dead, he struggled to pull the wood from his neck, but they were too slippery for him to get a good handle on. Gradually, his skin began to grow grey. It would be a slow, agonizing death for Chad.

Damon turned his gaze to the others then. His gaze paused on 'pussycat' vampire. "You…" He reached forward and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him forward, so he was in front of Malia. He was squeezing so hard, the man's neck was breaking under his grip, skin pulling and peeling. "Apologize."

Eyes bulging, he struggled to mouth the word _'sorry_. _'_

Damon released him; he fell to the ground, grabbing at his neck as it slowly healed.

"Now…" Damon looked to the rest of the group. "Some of you I know… Some of you were there last night…" He cast his gaze between them. "Slow on the uptake, aren't you?"

With a war cry, a vampire rushed him.

One might admire that kind of courage. Perhaps a better word for it was 'stupidity.'

Damon took a step forward to meet him and thrust a hand through his chest, tearing out his heart and tossing it in the air to catch with his other hand.

And then they all attacked, figuring an ambush would increase their chances. Malia jumped into the melee, teeth and claws first, lunging at the nearest vampire.

Damon thrust one of his hands to the left; two snarling vampires on the outer reaches of the group caught fire. They ran in circles, knocking into people and furniture alike, screaming. With another wave, two on the other side sucked in air as they suddenly turned grey and fell in a heap of gray ash on the floor. Damon threw the heart he was holding at another vampire's face; distracted, he tried to catch it, and then his eyes burst into flames in his head. Fire licked out of bloody sockets and consumed the rest of his head. He joined a still-dying Chad on the ground.

One by one, the vampires succumbed to attack, losing limbs and heads, organs and eyes. They fell in a heap of dust and blood, piled on top of each other. Not all were dead. Malia was far more kind to her half.

When Damon and Malia finished with the vampires, everyone else in the Grill stood looking to each other warily.

The hybrids, however, cast their gaze to a booth at the back.

Klaus shook his head minutely, and the hybrids stayed in their seats.

A were-jaguar at the jukebox took his chances, however, and lunged toward Damon, purple skin on full display, green eyes flashing, and long, curved claws at the ready. He made it halfway before Damon made a slicing motion with his hand and the were-jaguar's body was slit in half from one shoulder down to his opposite hip. His companions stood to avenge him, but it was, quite clearly, _useless._

The carnage was absolute. Those who remained and were unwilling to fight, scattered for every exit, but the doors remained closed and the windows refused to shatter.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Scott woke abruptly from a nap. He blinked tiredly into the dark room, and rubbed his hands over his face. Stefan had offered one of the spare rooms and, since Lydia looked dead on her feet, they'd taken it. The last week had been harder than usual, and Scott couldn't help but wonder if, somehow, Bonnie knew Damon would be raised. That she could tell she would be back soon too, and maybe her powers were calling to them more than ever. Whatever the reason, it had been tearing Lydia up, and if she wasn't sleeping, neither was he.

He turned to look at her, curled up beside him, sleeping soundly. Her skin had been running cooler than usual, so he'd packed thick blankets around her and tucked then in at every bend and curve. Her tossing and turning had pulled some loose, however, and he took his time making sure as much of her that could be covered was. Still, she looked pale and chilled. He reached out to stroke his fingers over her hair and tuck it back from her face. She hummed and turned her head, pressing her cheek against his hand. He smiled softly.

Falling in love with Lydia was a gradual thing. A connection born of their situation. Truth and faith had built over time, between and during every life-altering and life-threatening thing they'd faced. He couldn't say he wouldn't change some of it if he had the chance. There had been too much pain and loss, too many unnecessary deaths, not to wish some of it had never happened. But in a strange way, he had gained good people, amazing people, that he wouldn't trade for anything. Lydia was at the top of that list. The suffering, he could do without. Having someone to love and who loved him back, he wanted to hold on to that, _to her_ , as tightly as he could.

As if she heard him and returned the sentiment, her mouth turned up, every so faintly at the corner.

And then his phone started buzzing.

Scott was careful as he turned over, not wanting to jar the bed. He grabbed his phone up off the bedside table and thumbed it open. It was from Malia. One text after another, they seemed to be coming in quick, panicked succession.

— _Yellow_

— _Dark yellow_

— _Darker yellow_

— _Red_

— _RED_

— _RED RED RED!_

And then Lydia woke. She sat up, straight as a board, and _screamed_.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

When Damon was finished, blood danced in the air like a fine dust, and he turned to take it all in. He paused as clapping filled the room, only to find Klaus grinning up at him.

"Well done." His hybrids were all keeping close to him, still seated at their tables, shifting restlessly, and eyeing both their maker and Damon with uncertainty.

"Klaus," Damon greeted.

Klaus wagged a finger at him. "I thought I told you to find me if you ever felt like enjoying a little chaos."

"It was an unplanned circumstance."

He spread his hands out, gesturing to the room. "And yet you handled it so splendidly."

"I try."

"Open the doors!" a voice demanded, lilting with an accent.

Damon's gaze fell for a moment, and then he turned to see a blonde woman with an arm across Malia's upper chest, pinning her in place, while her other hand wrapped around her throat.

Malia struggled in the stranger's grip, but soon she was wincing, her eyes flashing in pain.

"I can drain her in _seconds_ ," the woman warned.

Damon's lip curled with disdain. " _Siphon_ …"

"Heretic, actually." She smiled, showed off pearly white fangs.

His eyes narrowed, but before he could reach out and destroy her where she stood, a hand wrapped around his wrist. He felt a pull, a splintering sensation, at the very center of him, and turned to see a man.

"Quickly, Malcolm."

"Don't hurry perfection, Valerie." He smirked up at Damon. "It takes _time_."

Damon raised an eyebrow and looked to the fingers coiled around his wrist. "You want power, young one…" His eyes bled black. "I'll show you power."

A glow began to emanate around where Malcolm's hand held on. It grew, brighter and brighter, until the heat was unbearable. Malcolm's skin turned an angry red and began to peel; beneath, an orange and yellow undercurrent, like fire, flowed up his arm. Letting out a scream, he released his hold on Damon and stumbled back.

But Damon reached out and tucked his hand behind Malcolm's neck to draw him forward. He raised his other hand to Malcolm's cheek in a mockery of a caress. Black scales flared across every inch of Damon's skin, the lines that fed between them turned a vibrant red that cracked open and let out tiny plumes of smoke. His shirt caught fire in random places and the fire slithered its way up Damon's body, crawling across his face, to feed into his eyes.

His voice boomed through the room with terrifying presence. "I bore witness to the creation of magic… When man was still little more than a _blight_ on this earth. When the ground was dry with death. It was mercy that returned life to this world and hope that carried it on. I stood sentinel over the Mother of Magic. I held, in my own two hands, the children from which every one of you were created. _My_ children."

The room began to shake, like a miniature earthquake. The walls cracked and the windows shattered. The lights flickered and fell from the ceiling.

"And yet here you stand, challenging me, stinking of hubris…"

Malcolm's knees gave out beneath him, but Damon's grip held him up. He began to desiccate, his skin turning gray and peeling away, flakes of him catching fire as they floated from his body.

"You _threaten_ one of my own…"

Damon cast judgmental eyes toward Valerie, who had released Malia in shock, and was holding her hands out in fearful surrender.

"You think you can handle what I have? You think you can _take_ what lives in me…?" He returned his gaze to Malcolm and lifted an eyebrow. "Let's find out."

A glow burst from each place Damon touched Malcolm; his skin cracked open, fire licking from craterous wounds, blood bubbling and sizzling as it spilled down his cheek and neck. And then he tipped his head back and screamed. His body burst into pieces, chunks of him landing all over the room, still aflame.

Valerie covered her mouth, her eyes wide with tears.

Damon turned to look at her.

"Please. I— I'm sorry. We meant you no harm. I didn't hurt her." She looked to Malia pleadingly.

Malia frowned back at her and then looked to Damon. "I'm fine."

Damon bared his teeth at a frightfully whimpering Valerie. "She should pay for her _insolence_ …"

" _Please_ …"

Malia cast her eyes around the room. "I think you've proved your point."

As if a light switch had been flicked, Damon stepped back, his skin smoothing out and his eyes returning to a cool blue. With a shrug, he waved his blood damp hands to the sides. "If you're sure."

And then the front door burst open, and a number of familiar faces fell through it.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Oh, look. The cavalry has arrived…" Damon wiped his hands down the front of his black shirt. "A little late, but you get points for good intentions."

A crooked hanging light fixture fell from the ceiling with a crash. Mystic Grill was in shambles; bodies, blood, and broken furniture covered every inch of the floor.

Malia smiled apologetically at the shocked group. "In our defense… They started it."

"You _helped_?" Scott's brows hiked.

"Just to even it out."

"How is this _even?_ " Caroline threw her hand out and walked further into the room. "There's at least fifteen… twenty people in here."

"And about half of them are alive." Malia brightened then, looking rather proud of herself.

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be happy? You wanted these people out of your town, didn't you?"

"Yes, but we were hoping you'd be a little more… _picky_ about who you got rid of and, well, _how_." Caroline's nose wrinkled as she made her way toward them. "And who do you think is going to clean this up anyway?"

"Not to mention, we thought you might stay under the radar until we could figure out what the game plan was," Stefan muttered. As his eyes wandered the room, he could have sworn he saw someone that looked suspiciously like Klaus disappearing into the back. With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now they're going to start wondering what you are, why you're here, and why you're taking so many of them out…"

"So, let them wonder. Let them find me." Damon's eyes narrowed. "We can end this much sooner."

"Yeah, I don't like the sound of that…" Stiles started fidgeting. "It's very brimstone and hellfire. Maybe we could try something _less_ Gladiator-style. Maybe? Anybody?"

Damon scoffed and started for the door. He stepped on bodies as he went, kicking arms and legs out of his way. The group parted for him as he passed, and Malia followed at his heels, shrugging apologetically to Scott and Lydia.

"I'll keep an eye on him," she promised, waving as they stepped out onto the street, and the door closed behind them.

Tyler pointed accusingly between Stefan and Caroline. "This is _your_ fault!"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Well, let's hear _your_ master plan, Tyler! Because so far, nobody else has come up with anything!"

The group stayed silent, and she nodded, feeling vindicated.

Of course, then a body moved and twitched. It turned itself over and gasped for breath, spitting blood over its chin, two large pieces of wood sticking out from its neck. Eyes a milky white and skin turning grey with desiccation, he began to speak in a croaky voice.

They couldn't make it out at first, the strangled word that dried lips couldn't form properly. But then, as Jeremy knelt by the man, he caught it.

"Mother."

The room went silent, but only for a second. And then all of them, everyone on the verge of death, they all began to whisper and chant the same word. A litany, a prayer, a condemnation.

" _Mother… Mother… MOTHER_ …"

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"And the heretic? Malcolm?"

"Dead. Whatever this guy was, he was too powerful. Malcolm tried to take it all on and he blew up… _Literally_."

Kai hummed and tapped a long, curved blade against his mouth thoughtfully. "What did he call her again? The ' _Mother of Magic_ '… If dad's that powerful, what do you think mom's packing?"

"She wasn't there. It was just him and some spunky little coyote shifter."

Kicking his feet up off the desk, Kai stood, and smirked at Gerald as he pointed his knife at him. "I had a therapist once. She said I had mommy issues… Let's test that theory."

"Sir?"

"You said Mystic Falls' resident Scooby Gang showed up. They seemed to know him, right?"

Gerald nodded slowly.

"Great. Then find one, and make sure they have beans to spill."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **some notes** :

 _this chapter's a little shorter than the last couple. but it's pretty action packed, so there's some balance. damon did give them the opportunity not to fight him, i'd like to emphasize that. oh, he was completely ready to fight, even kind of wanted to, which is why he tells malia that she can't stop him even if she wanted to. but he does give them the option to walk away. the option is there pretty much right up to the point where chad offended witches, and then there was no going back. he mentions respect a couple times throughout the chapter, and that's a big sticking point with damon. everyone in town is showing a disrespect for magic and its history and damon doesn't like that, in part because 'history' is very fresh for him._

 _some really cool things!_ _we'll be seeing bonnie in the next chapter, as the witches decide to make a move on the grave, so that's something to look forward to. we'll also be seeing damon's mom! :D_

 _and kai's up to his usual tricks, so that adds a new level of complicated. plus, he's not the only one that heard damon say 'mother of magic.' klaus has some things elijah will be interested to hear... ;)_

 _huge, HUGE thank you to everybody who went out of their way to leave a review on the last chapter! i really appreciate that you took your time. i'll replying to as many as i can after i post this!_

 _thanks so much for reading!_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	8. like us

**chapter rating** : teen  
 **word count** : 4,760

* * *

 **viii.**

Caroline put her hands to her hips and tapped her foot as she looked around the chaos of Mystic Grill. Bodies, alive and dead, covered the floor. Tables and chairs were in pieces or overturned. What few lamps were still hanging from the ceiling were holding on by a thread. And blood smeared every other surface. What had once been a casual hang out place was now the aftermath of a slaughter house. "Well, we can't just leave it like this…"

"Why not?" Tyler shrugged. "Anybody that lived will spread the word anyway. Face it, there's no putting the lid back on this. They're already talking about him, and this is only going to fuel the fire. Besides, why should be clean up _his_ mess?"

Sheila snorted, and the others turned to find her lingering by the door. She arched an eyebrow at them. "Why should he clean up _ours_?"

"That's different…" Elena frowned. "We didn't do any of this. The humans that killed them, that wasn't us."

"Wasn't so long ago the _humans_ of this same group were talking about killing Bonnie in her grave… I didn't hear any of you speak up and say different."

Elena glanced at Tyler and then to Sheila. "I'm not saying I agree with my brother, but he has a point. If this is what Damon can do, and he's not even a witch, then what can Bonnie do?"

"A lot more than this. And trying to kill her will guarantee she shows us just how strong she really is." Abby stepped up next to her mother and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're all talking like you still think you have a chance of beating them. _Either_ of them." She waved a hand toward the bodies littering the floor. "These people aren't tools for you to pull out whenever something breaks down. They're _people_."

Stiles raised a finger disagreeably. "Uh, at least one of them is a _demon_ …"

Abby turned narrowed eyes on him.

"And that's my cue to shut up…" He ducked his head.

Lucy stepped forward then. "The _point_ is that witches have been saving your asses for so long that you've forgotten what it's like to see them as real people with real problems and feelings and people that they care about. You see the aftermath of what they're dealing with and paint them with a broad brush of 'evil.' But what have _you_ done to save people you care about? How many people have died so you or your friends could live?"

Everyone went quiet for a moment, the truth of her words hammering home.

Stefan cleared his throat. "You're right. Whenever we run into trouble, we run to you. We look for a magical way out. We dig up out of date prophecies about the Mother of Magic and raise her dead husband instead. We're always trying to circumvent what could just be the inevitable. And because it usually works, we lose sight about what matters and start to think the ends justify the means. If we weren't on a clock here, I'd tell you I'd change my ways. But we are. The world is set to end, and we've got an angry demon walking around killing anyone who offends him and a witch that might just destroy us all as soon as she sees us."

"So, what's the plan, Hero Hair?" Braeden stared at him, her brow lifted. "What magical fix-it are you thinking of now?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I have no idea where we go from here."

Tyler sighed. "Well, someone needs to find Damon. I'm not saying kill him or subdue him, but we need eyes on him."

Elena nodded. "And we need supplies. We're running out of food, so we need to hit the stores again."

"So we make teams," Alaric suggested. "Some of us will hit the stores to stock up. Some of us can track Damon. And the rest—"

"Me and mine have another project to work on." Sheila closed her cardigan around herself and crossed her arms in the process.

"Yeah? What project's that?" Jeremy looked between them, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Nothing you need to worry about." Jamie waited until his mother, aunt, cousin, and grandmother turned, and then he kept pace at their backs as they walked away.

"Well, that wasn't ominous…" Stiles muttered.

Scott stared after the witches a moment, glanced at Stefan, and then turned back around. "I can help with the supply run. But someone will have to head back to the house to keep an eye on Lydia."

"Matt and Sarah are with her now. But I'll check in," Stefan offered.

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem."

"I'll find Damon." Caroline lifted her chin, daring anyone to argue with her. "I helped wake him up. I can make sure he's not massacring anybody else."

"I'll go with you," Elena offered.

"Okay. Everybody got a job?" Tyler looked around the group and, when each of them nodded, he smiled grimly. "Meet back at the boarding house when you're done."

With that, everyone dispersed.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Braeden!"

Braeden cast an apologetic look at her grandmother and then turned, stepping back from the group to meet Derek as he caught up to them. "You shouldn't be here…"

He raised an eyebrow and looked past her to where her family was lingering in a cluster, not far from the edge of the woods. "Because you're going to go dig up an ancient witch that may or may not want to kill everything on earth?"

She blinked at him. "I can't answer that."

His mouth quirked with a faint, knowing smile.

Sighing, she shook her head. "I need you to trust me… as much as anyone _can_ trust a mercenary."

Derek's brow furrowed. "Of course I trust you."

"Then why are you here? If you knew what we were doing…"

"Because I care. And I'm worried. And…" He reached for her, his hands gently running up and down her arms. "This witch, this… _Bonnie_. She's powerful. Maybe the most powerful person on earth. And you're going to dig her up out of her grave and just _hope_ that she doesn't want to kill you on sight."

She snorted a laugh. "When you say it like that it sounds crazy."

"It _is_ crazy. All of this is. But if you feel like this is something you have to do…"

Braeden stared up at him, looking at her so earnestly, so _lovingly_ , and a part of her just wanted to push him away, as far as she could. "I'm not a witch," she blurted out. "My whole family, my whole life, they were just waiting for it. That _spark_ that would make me like them. And it never came. I've always just been normal, average Braeden who's good with a gun but not much else. And I learned to be okay with that. I went looking for a purpose somewhere else and somehow… Somehow it led me right back into the game, surrounded by all of these supernatural people with abilities I could never have. It led me to _you_." She shook her head. "I'm good at being human. I'm good at surviving and fighting and kicking ass. But I'm still just skin and blood and bone. So if she comes up out of that ground ready to kill, I'm the mostly likely target of all that. I get that. But I've spent too much of my life running away from my family and that history. And I can't anymore. I can't let them go in there without me. I _can't_."

Derek let out a long, heavy sigh, and then he brushed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheeks between his hands. "I don't think 'normal' or 'average' are even _close_ to what I'd use to describe you… But if you need to do this, okay. I'll be here when you get back. And if you need me—"

"All I have to do is send out a howl?" She grinned. "You'll come running?"

Derek smiled. "Yeah. That'll work."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Okay."

He bent to press a kiss first to her lips and then to her forehead. "Be careful."

"When have I _ever_ …?"

He laughed, low and deep.

She tugged his hands loose from her face by the wrist, and then winked at him, before turning on her heel and walking off to join her family.

"You about done flirting with the wolf?" Lucy asked.

Braeden rolled her eyes. "Are we digging this witch up or what?"

"Yes, and I don't want to waste anymore time. Jeremy Gilbert is suspicious enough." Sheila's lips pinched in displeasure. "We hardly need to give him enough time to think up some half-baked plan."

"She's right. That boy would rather shoot first and deal with the aftermath." Abby shook her head. "Let's go."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Mother of Magic," Elijah repeated to himself, his brow furrowed as he leaned back in the chair at his desk. "You're sure that's what he said?"

"For bloodysake, _yes_." Klaus filled himself another glass of bourbon and slumped in a tall-backed chair. "I might've been slightly distracted by the light show, but I remember what he called her. Have you heard of her or not?"

"Not a specific person, no. In a general way, I've heard talk of who might have first created magic. But this…" He shook his head. "We'll need to talk to someone."

"Someone? _Who?_ "

"A witch."

"What, just any witch? The town is flooded with them. Open the door and take your pick."

"No, not just _any_ witch… A Bennett."

Klaus frowned. "They'll never go for it."

"I didn't say we'd ask _politely_ …" Elijah tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. "The Bennetts are allied with Stefan, aren't they?"

"When it suits them."

"So find one. There's no time like the present for a witch to align herself with a vampire. The _End of Days_ breeds strange bedfellows…"

With a sigh, Klaus snapped his fingers over his shoulder. One of his hybrids scurried over, and Elijah turned his mind elsewhere. Soon, they would have all the answers they needed.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

The church was a little worse for wear. Many of the windows were broken, the paint was chipping away, and the front door hung crooked. Clearly, it'd been abandoned some time ago. But it would do.

Malia looked dubious. "You're sure about this?"

Damon shook his head, and peered up at the ramshackle church from the front yard, yellow grass crunching beneath his feet. He stepped forward to climb the creaky steps with their peeling white paint to a whining porch. The boards seemed to bow under the weight of him, but they would hold. He pulled open the doors and watched as dust scattered and cobwebs tore. The hinges shrieked, but the doors managed not to fall off, knocking against the outer walls as he let go.

"Are demons _allowed_ at church…?"

He glanced at her, amused, and then crossed the threshold.

When he didn't immediately catch fire, she seemed relieved.

Damon walked up the aisle, every footstep echoing up through the high, vaulted ceiling.

Malia lingered at the back, uncomfortable, tugging at the ends of her jean shorts as she shifted from foot to foot.

When he reached the front of the church, where fabric covered stairs had long grown dull in color, faded, torn, and worn, he stopped. Tipping his head back, he peered up at the tall, wooden cross on display. A shaft of sunlight broke through a hole in the roof and fell across it. Damon closed his eyes, spread his arms out in mimicry, and waited.

It could've been seconds or minutes or hours, but eventually he heard it. The fluttering of wings.

When he opened his eyes, he no longer stood in the church, but in a dark, eerily lit room. And before him stood his mother.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

The Bennetts spent more than an hour just searching for the grave. Eventually, they realized they were walking around in circles.

"Her magic is tricking us." Lucy looked around the woods, frowning. "It's a protective measure."

Jamie sat on a log and sighed. "But it led us right to her before…"

"No. The crows did." Abby cast her gaze up to the branches of a nearby tree. "Instead of looking for her, we need to let them show us."

"The birds have sentience now?"

"The animals protect her, just like the forest does. But the birds want us to wake her up…" Sheila peered up at the six crows sitting side by side, watching them. "They can feel that something is changing."

"So, we're gonna follow the creepy ass birds into the woods…" Jamie shook his head as he sighed. "All right. Hey, you think if I dictate my will on my phone it'll stick?"

"What do you even have to leave anybody?" Braeden wondered, elbowing him.

"I have _stuff_ … I mean, most of it burned up in our old house. All I've really got is what's in my go-bag, but…"

"This just got depressing as hell."

" _Everything_ is depressing. It's the apocalypse."

"All right, try to keep the grumbling to a minimum," Sheila said. "Things are hard enough without you two getting maudlin."

"Guys…" Braeden called.

The group looked to her, and then up. With a flutter of their wings, the crows swooped down from their perch and took off through the trees. One after the other, weaving to and fro, leaving the odd black feather along the ground.

The group hurried to follow after them.

"Little easier… when it's not… pitch black… out…" Jamie huffed as he leaped over fallen trees and ducked under low-hanging branches.

Braeden reached the divot first. She threw a hand back to stop Lucy as she stumbled to a stop behind her. The others followed, each of them struggling to catch their breath.

Braeden smirked at Jamie. "Didn't you used to run track?"

Bent over, he raised his hand to wave his middle finger at her.

Sheila pushed past them to stand at the forefront. Her brows hiked as she stared down at the hole below, filled with colorful flowers, reaching green vines, and lush grass.

Lucy stood next to her. "So? You think it's her?"

Sheila nodded. "Be careful…" She bent to lower herself into the pit. "The earth won't take kindly to disrupting her rest."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Apollyon, who preferred to be called 'Polly' over some of her other more grandiose titles, spread her arms out, the long sleeves of her dark green gown nearly reaching the floor. "Well, well, well… If it isn't the prodigal son."

Damon arched an eyebrow at her. "Not sure the title fits, given it was you who gave me the job…"

Her lips spread in a slow smirk. "That's right… It's been so long, I nearly forgot. That was when I still had some small shred of hope for humanity."

"That they would persevere or the chaos they would create later?"

She shrugged. "Either way, it was amusing to see it all unfold…"

Polly stepped down to meet him, and pressed a hand to his heart. Blood squelched, seeping through the fabric of his shirt to stain her wide-spread fingers.

She tisked. "And to think, after all I'd given them, this is how they repay me… Hunting my gift down like a dog. Killing my favorite son…"

Damon snorted. "You could've dug me up."

"Could I?" She circled him, hand sliding from his chest to swing at her side, dripping blood as it went. "Even if I'd wanted to, it wasn't the right time. It would've brought things to a head too early."

Damon turned to keep an eye on her. "What things?"

"Why, the apocalypse, of course." She smiled. "While you were sleeping, I've been waiting. It's time for Bonnie to return what was given to her."

He frowned, his brow furrowed. "You did all of this just to take her magic back?"

"No, of course not." She scoffed. "Bonnie deserves retribution. _Justice_." She curled her hand into a fist, and his blood seeped down her wrist. "Her life was stolen from her when all she'd tried to do was build a better world. And now her children will give it to her. Justice _and_ the world."

It took Damon a moment, for it all to sink in. But when it did, it set his teeth on edge. "It wasn't Bonnie that was calling them, was it?"

"Somewhat… It wasn't her intention, exactly. She couldn't leave this plane, not while she was anchored to you. But she wasn't willing to let you go, so her spirit stayed tied to the earth." Polly shrugged. "The ley lines take time to build, to _charge_ , so I let her powers sink back into the earth. I let them reach across the world and waited until they were ready. And now they are. Now they can feel her, feel their mother calling them home. And when she wakes, she'll have the army she needs to destroy them."

"Who?"

"The _humans_." Her nose wrinkled. "All they do is take and take, hate and fight. The world would be a better place without them. The supernatural can roam free. No more fear or judgement. They are the superior race, and now they'll prove it."

Damon shook his head. "That wasn't what Bonnie was created for. It was never her purpose."

Polly bared her teeth at him. "Her _purpose_ was to create the supernatural, and she did. And now it's time for her to lead them."

Damon stared at the floor a long moment, his mind twisting and turning in turmoil. A part of him agreed. A part of him wanted that vengeance as much as, even _more_ than, his mother. But when he raised his gaze to meet his mother, his voice was strong and sure. " _No_."

"What?" Her lip curled in derision. "You think you can stop this? Stop _me_? Some of us haven't been laying in a shallow grave all this time, little boy. Do try to remember that."

"I don't have to stop you, mother. All I need to do is what you sent me here to do…" He stepped back from her, resignation on his face. "Protect her."

"Damon…" Polly lurched toward him, her eyes flashing orange and her teeth lengthening. Black scales flared down the sides of her face. "Think about this… Think about what they did. Think about your children! Their entire lives, they ran, and they never found home, never found peace. _They_ did that!"

Damon's heart twisted in his chest, but he didn't answer.

Smoke plumed on her skin and fire licked up the sides of her face. " _Damon!"_

His eyes opened to the church once more, his mother nowhere to be seen. His arms dropped to the sides and he turned. Malia was leaning in the doorway, fiddling with her phone.

"We can go now," he said, as he stepped through the door to the porch.

"What? Already?"

"I've said all I needed to say."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Abby hopped down into the pit and turned to help Braeden in after her. They hadn't brought shovels with them; simply marching off into the woods, fully aware that they were on an unseen deadline. "Let's start digging."

Jamie frowned as he stood at the edge of the pit, back against a wall of dirt. "How are we supposed to dig her up without disturbing the flowers?"

" _Carefully_." Sheila waded her way through the flowers. "Don't tear them up, just move them aside, so their roots can find their way back down." She bent at the waist and carefully dug her fingers into the soft dirt in front of her. As she gently pulled a few flowers up, the roots wiggled like dangling legs, reaching up to coil around her wrist, in search of home. She stretched her arm out and placed them on the ground. The roots dove down into the earth and tethered themselves there once more.

Jamie shuddered. "Creepy."

Lucy made her way around to join Sheila and knelt to help her. Abby and Braeden shared a look before following.

Frowning, Jamie moved with them, carefully watching every step he took, so he wasn't trampling anything. He moved the flowers closest to his knees first, to give him some room to move around. And then he reached toward the center. One by one, they moved each flower to the outer ring of the pit. Pressed close, the flowers wrapped around each other, climbing together and forming a wall up the side of the pit.

It took them nearly an hour, but eventually, they center of the pit was cleared of flowers, and they could finally start digging. The earth was cold, soft, and full of life. The scooped it up in the palms of their hands and dropped it to the side in quickly growing piles. Until, finally, they found a hand.

Sheila paused as her fingers bumped against something stiff. She dusted away dirt and worms until she unearthed long, slender fingers. "Here. She's here."

The others looked up and spotted the hand poking up from the ground.

"Follow it," Lucy said.

They moved closer and started digging, revealing an arm and a shoulder. Bit by bit, a woman was revealed.

Braeden knelt at Bonnie's head, carefully rubbing dirt away from the dips of her eyes and the hollows of her cheeks. Her hair was fanned out all around her, chopped to her shoulders at a strange angle, with bright flowers woven throughout. Her face was oddly peaceful. The corners of her mouth were upturned, as if she was smiling. She was still young and beautiful, as if she hadn't aged a day. Where her dress was torn, thin green vines had sewn the fabric shut. A faint glow seemed to emanate from her; she was ethereal.

Jamie stared down at her, his brow furrowed. "She doesn't look like she's been down here that long…"

Sheila lifted Bonnie's limp hand in her own and smoothed her fingers over the top. "She looks like us."

"What?" Abby looked up at her mother.

Sheila shook her head and blinked quickly against the hot sting in her eyes. "When I was a little girl, my mama would tell me stories about all the witches she ever heard of. Women of color that carried their magic with them, passed it down to all their children. Writing everything they learned in their grimoires and hiding it away so no one could ever find it. Even with all our power, we still had to hide, to cower, to _silence_ ourselves. She'd tell me that the humans survived on fear. Afraid that one day someone stronger would rise up and take away their power. So they struck them down before they could ever try to rebel… Half my life, I spent fighting for our rights. The right simply to _exist_ in a world that seemed hell bent on telling us we didn't deserve to be here… But they were _wrong_." She squeezed tightly to Bonnie's hand. "We came from her. All of us. The first witch to ever walk this earth was a black woman. A beautiful, strong, _powerful_ black woman."

"Oh, mama…" Abby leaned her shoulder against Sheila's and hooked an arm around her waist.

"I won't let them take her. I won't let their _fear_ destroy her." Sheila raised her chin and looked to each of them seriously. "Help me. We need to get her out of here."

"Where are we going to take her?" Braeden wondered, even as she bent to help the others lift Bonnie's body up and out of the earthly cradle that held her body.

"I might know a place."

They paused as a familiar, but unexpected, voice called down to them.

Braeden looked up and sighed as she spotted Stefan Salvatore standing at the edge of the pit.

He half-smiled at them, and waved his fingers in a vague hello.

Sheila glared. "You followed us."

"I had a feeling I knew where you were going…" He held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not here to talk you out of anything. Look, I want the same thing you want."

"Oh, do you?"

"I don't want them to kill her. I still think we can salvage something here. I woke Damon up because I thought it was Bonnie. I sincerely believe that she can _help_ us."

Sheila stood, and dusted her hands off. "Why should we trust you?"

"You and I both know that if you wanted to, you could incapacitate me and leave. I'm asking you not to. I own property all over Mystic Falls. And I know a place, a _safe_ place, where we can bring Bonnie until we figure out what to do." He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's no secret that most of the group thinks waking up Damon and searching for Bonnie was a mistake. I stand by my decision. I don't know if she'll want to level this whole town when she wakes up. I do know that I can't walk away from this. I helped start this. You said before that we look to witches to clean up our messes, and that's true. I don't want to do that now. Let me help."

Sheila stared at him a long moment, and then reached a hand out to him.

Stefan took it and helped Sheila out of the pit.

Just as he was about to let go, she squeezed his hand and pulled him forward. Voice low with warning, she told him, "If you're lying and you so much as harm one _hair_ on her head, I'll level this town myself. And you'll be the first person I take down."

Stefan stared down at her a beat, and then nodded.

Releasing him, she turned around to face her family. "Come on. We're wasting time and who knows what the Gilbert boy is planning."

They lifted Bonnie up and Stefan bent his knees to carefully take her, cradling her in his arms. The others climbed out and dusted their hands free of dirt.

"All right, where to?"

"This way." Stefan started walking, and the Bennetts flared out to walk equal with him.

As they walked away from the pit, the flowers left behind darkened to a pitch black, and the faint smell of decay and blood permeated from the hole. Cold, dark dirt began to climb, swallowing each and every flower until it reached the very top, leaving no trace of a grave at all.

Above, the crows began to dance on their branches, fluttering their wings with triumph, and cawing delightfully.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"So? What'd she say?" Malia hurried to keep up with Damon, looking up at him curiously.

"She's getting her popcorn ready to watch the war." He stalked down the road, brow furrowed in thought.

"She _wants_ it to happen…"

Malia shook her head, confused. "Didn't you say you were okay with that…?"

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"I realized I was being a jackass."

Her mouth edged up faintly. "So, you'll help us?"

He sighed, sounding entirely too put upon. "Yes."

Malia grinned, and bounced a little. "This is great." She dug her phone out to text Scott. "What's the plan? How are we going to convince Bonnie not to wipe us out?"

"It's not her destroying everything we have to worry about. It's her waging war against the humans with you as her army…"

" _Army?_ But we wouldn't…"

"You won't have a choice. If Bonnie tells you to kill the humans, you will. You _have_ to. It's ingrained in you." He stopped abruptly and turned to her, stabbing a finger against her shoulder. "Your magic is connected to hers, and she's the one pulling the strings."

Malia rubbed at her shoulder and frowned. "So, what do we do?"

"We show her she doesn't want vengeance."

" _How?_ "

Frowning, he turned to start walking again. "By letting her grieve the right way… Lettering her say goodbye."

She followed after him. "Okay… And how are we going to do _that_?"

"We're going to let her see her children."

"What?" Malia pulled at his elbow so he would turn around and face her. "But they're… I mean, you said they were _dead_."

His brows hiked. "They are."

"Then how?"

"Me."

She blinked rapidly and shook her head. "You've lost me…"

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he caught her eyes and told her, "You're going to kill me."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _sorry this is so much later than my usual chapter updates. i caught a stomach bug on tuesday and it's pretty much knocked me off my feet. so long as nothing else interrupts, we should be back to regularly scheduled updates every two days! :)_

 _so, i did say we'd **see** bonnie this chapter, i just didn't say she wouldn't quite be awake. a lot was going on and some things have to happen before bonnie wakes up. i promise it'll be worth it!_

 _thank you all so much for reading, and for being patient, and for leaving such lovely reviews! i hope this was worth the wait!_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	9. the other side

**chapter rating** : teen  
 **warnings** : violence, gore  
 **word count** : 5,454

* * *

 **ix.**

The lights flickered in the old, musty parlor of a house that hadn't seen visitors in quite some time. One of Stefan's many properties around Mystic Falls, it had gone unused for years at a time. All around the room, drop covers dressed the antique furniture. All but a long, slender table that sat center in the room, whereupon they laid Bonnie's body.

Abby stood at Bonnie's shoulders, arms crossed in front of her as she looked her over. Lucy had washed away any lingering dirt from Bonnie's face, arms, and hands, revealing smooth, brown skin underneath. She was younger than Abby had imagined her to be. The idea of the First Witch, of a mother of three, just didn't compute to this young woman. But there she was.

Despite how many times Lucy tried to pull flower buds from Bonnie's hair, they kept reappearing. Tiny green vines wove themselves through choppy black hair while pale purple petals opened and closed at random. Life and nature were desperate to be a part of Bonnie, clinging to her even as she lay far from the home the woods had made for her.

"Well, what are we going to do?" Lucy dragged a chair over, turned it backwards, and straddled the seat. "Wake her up? Leave her here? Hide her in a closet somewhere like the family secret?"

Braeden snorted. She was sitting cross-legged on the corner of the table, by Bonnie's bare feet. "We can't just leave her here. Just because she's not in the ground doesn't mean she's not still calling to everyone. Eventually, they're going to start looking for her. Damon keep grabbing attention every time he decides to play baseball with the next supernatural douchebag's head."

"Braeden's right." Stefan stood, frowning down at Bonnie thoughtfully, his hands on his hips. "There's been too much exposure. People are going to start asking questions. And the only people they know that might have the answers are us."

"Not to mention Jeremy." Jamie sighed from his perch on a chair, legs outstretched in front of him. "He's already suspicious. He's gonna start poking around."

"If we do wake her up, it needs to be in a controlled environment." Sheila fiddled with the rings on her fingers. "We tell her what we can and hope for the best."

"Hiccup in that plan…" Lucy's brows arched. "We don't know _how_ to wake her up."

Abby picked at her lower lip as she frowned. "I hate to say it, but… We need Damon."

"Ask and ye shall receive."

Startled, Abby pressed a hand to her chest as she turned her head. Seeming to appear from thin air, Damon stood next to her, pale skin standing out starkly against his all black wardrobe.

" _Jesus_."

"Not quite."

Sheila frowned as she stepped forward. "And just _how_ did you know where we were?"

"I didn't." He took a step toward the table and reached a hand out, delicately brushing Bonnie's hair back from her face. The tip of his finger followed the curve of her cheek down the line of her jaw. "I knew where she was."

Malia walked over to stand next to him. She tipped her head as she took Bonnie in for the first time. " _Wow_."

Damon plucked a purple flower from Bonnie's hair and tucked it behind his own ear. "You can't wake her up."

" _Oh_?" Sheila raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

Malia dragged her gaze from Bonnie and turned to the head witch. "He has a plan."

"A _plan_ …" Lucy snorted, unconvinced. "For what, exactly?"

"Saving us."

Abby looked between Malia and Damon. "What brought that change of heart on?"

Damon glanced at her and offered a humorless smirk. "Let's just say this town is overwhelmed with people with mommy issues… and I'm no different."

The room went silent, not sure how to take his words.

Malia looked between Damon and the others. "It's okay. He means it. I could smell it if he was lying."

"So, you want to save us now…?" Braeden eyed him curiously. Just like that?"

"Not exactly." He shrugged. "Saving her means saving you. Lucky happenstance."

"All right. I'll bite… What's the plan?"

Malia smiled brightly. "We're gonna kill him."

Stefan blinked, and then his brows hiked high on his forehead. "I'm sorry… You want us to _kill_ you?"

"Yes."

He laughed hollowly, and cursed the fact that he was in a house far, _far_ away from his drink cart. "Right, because that's _exactly_ what we had in mind when we spent weeks trying to find you…"

Damon shrugged. "You wanted a solution to your problem. I've found it. What's the hold up?"

"I don't know, maybe that if we do this and you stay dead, we have no back-up plan. Currently, you are the only option. We have no idea what to do or how to stop what's happening here."

"It's not permanent," Damon assured. "When I die, I'll be sent to the other side. I can find my children there. They can talk to Bonnie, and she can find peace."

"How?" Sheila walked forward. "How will her children cross the barrier?"

"We'll need the banshee. She can call me back and when she does, I'll bring them with me. They won't be alive, not without a body, but their spirit will linger on this side."

"For how long?"

"Long enough." Damon's gaze jumped from face to face. "You don't have another option. And I'm not much for bargaining." He turned his attention to Stefan. "You'll do it. You woke me, so you can send me to the other side."

Stefan pursed his lips. "Say I do, how sure are you that it'll work?"

"Sixty-forty."

He blinked. "Sixty it'll work, or sixty it'll fail?"

Damon grinned.

With a sigh, Stefan rubbed his forehead. "Say you go over there, you get your children, and you bring them back. _Then_ you'll wake Bonnie up?"

"I will. Then we reunite the family, say our bittersweet farewells, and Bonnie doesn't dust every human in sight." His gaze bounced toward Braeden for a moment and then moved to Sheila. "Deal?"

She stood a moment, chin raised, and then turned her attention to her family. "We don't have many options here."

"Great." Damon pointed at Stefan. "The banshee. She's a pivotal piece in this game."

He stared a beat longer and then pulled his phone from his pocket.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"…not saying I don't _trust_ him. I just think it's a little dangerous for him to be running around in the woods with his headphones in. You know?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Not that this conversation isn't stimulating, but can we talk about something _other_ than Tyler?"

Elena sighed. "Sure. Like how we can't find Damon and the world is about to blow up in our faces?"

"I was thinking more like, what do you think the weather's like in Paris and, is it too late to go on vacation?"

With a snort, Elena shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, could you really walk away now?"

"No." Caroline pouted. "But I wish I could. Sometimes I wish I was still human and completely unaware of all the weirdness going on in the background. I mean… Don't you ever miss it? Just being some normal person that never had to worry about this kind of stuff?"

"Sure. Sometimes. I mean, if I could go back to how things were before… Before my parents died, before Stefan, before all of it… I wonder what it'd be like. What _I_ would be like. Better, worse, _alive_ …?" Elena sighed. "But then I think, I don't know, things aren't perfect, but they're not the worst either. I mean, minus the whole apocalypse thing, it was going okay. I was getting used to being a vampire and Tyler was accepting that he was a werewolf and Jeremy's a hunter… I mean, it's weird, but it's life, right?"

"Yeah…" Caroline shook her head. "I don't know. I know I'm happier as a vampire. I'm stronger, mentally and physically. But I also know I _have_ to be, because of everything we see and fight and have to deal with, _every day_. And sometimes I just _really_ want a vacation…"

"Yeah." Elena huffed a laugh. "Well, maybe this time next year, we'll be on a sandy beach."

"Sure." She kicked aimlessly at a crumbled beer can on the ground. "Just as soon as we convince Bonnie that humans are friends, not foes."

Elena bit her lip. "About that… I know it's not a popular theory, and I know the witches don't like hearing it, but… We don't _know_ Bonnie. I mean, we have no loyalty to her, and when you think about it, all of this is kind of her fault…"

Caroline paused, and turned to look at Elena. "She didn't _force_ those people to hunt her down and kill her…"

" _No_ , of course not. I just mean, with her powers calling everyone here. If it wasn't for her, none of us would be here. We wouldn't be running all over town, trying to find some homicidal demon, and our home wouldn't be overrun with every good, bad, and evil supernatural being in the world…"

"Okay, but I really don't think she meant for that to happen. The way Damon explained it, she had no control over it. The humans buried her, and nature was just doing what it's supposed to, taking care of its own. She couldn't know that her powers would reach out or the earth would keep her safely tucked away in some weird grave cocoon."

"I get that, I just think we really need to consider our options here."

"You mean killing her before she wakes up?" Brow furrowed, Caroline shook her head. "Even ignoring the part where I don't even think we _can_ , because I'm pretty sure she'd kill us, weird death coma or not. But can we really do something like that? Kill someone that might not even be able to defend themselves?"

Elena bit down hard on her lip. "If it was going to save the world, isn't that a price we need to pay?"

Caroline didn't answer. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she used it as a way to exit the conversation. Digging it out of the pocket of her jacket, she thumbed it open.

A text message from Stefan stared back at her.

 _—Ditch Elena. Grab Lydia. Meet me at the house I took you to after graduation._

Another quickly followed.

 _—Don't let anyone follow you. Tell no one._

Caroline stared at her phone a long moment, and then looked up to where Elena was waiting, just a few feet ahead of her. She smiled. "Hey, do you mind if we drop by the boarding house? I want to check in on Sarah. And I can make us some hot chocolate to keep us warm while we're looking…"

Elena grinned. "Sure. Sounds great."

As she turned on her heel to walk ahead, Caroline looked back to her phone, and thumbed in a response.

 _—Okay. See you soon._

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Matt grinned, leaning sideways, mouth open to catch the popcorn Sarah was throwing to him. She was sitting sideways in an over-sized chair, her leg hanging over one arm, big bowl of popcorn in her lap. A fire burned bright in the grate behind her, giving the room a warm glow.

He threw his fists up in triumph when he caught it, and laughed as he chewed.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Whatever, _jock_. You've had more practice."

Pushing off the couch, he leaned over, grabbed up a handful of popcorn and then sunk back down. "Then let's get you up to scratch, Salvatore."

She snorted. "Shouldn't we check on Lydia?"

Matt shrugged. "She's sleeping. Scott's always saying she needs to rest."

"Whatever. You just want to flirt with me some more."

He smiled. "Never said I didn't."

"Uh-huh." She leaned back in her seat, smile slowly falling away. "It's weird, right? That we're here, having fun, while everything's falling apart out there…"

Matt glanced toward the front windows of the house, thick curtains covering them. They'd long gotten used to closing the curtains so nobody would see the lights were on at the boarding house. Not that the usual suspects would really expect them to be anywhere else, but with a whole slew of other enemies out there, they tried to be careful where they could.

"It's just one of those things, you know?" He frowned. "You take the good times when they come 'cause you don't know how long they'll last."

Sarah smirked teasingly. "So, I'm your good time?"

"I'd pick you over Ty or Jeremy any day."

She laughed. "Yeah, well… You know, not for nothing, but if the world has to end, I'd rather be here with you than watching it blow from my dorm room."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

He bit his lip to hide his grin.

Sarah looked past him then, as she spotted Caroline moving down the hallway, dragging a limp Elena by her armpits. Brow furrowed, Sarah opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on. But then Caroline mimed ' _shh_ ' at Sarah and she took the hint.

Sitting up a little taller in her chair, Sarah glanced at Matt and then cleared her throat. "Uh, so, practice makes perfect, right?" She nodded her chin toward his handful of popcorn.

"Right." He leaned back and held up a kernel. "Ready?"

She smiled. "Ready."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Lydia blinked as Caroline dropped the slumped body of Elena on the bed beside her. "Should I be worried…?"

"No." Caroline paused and brushed her hair back from her face. "She's fine. I just… Well, I broke her neck, but she'll wake up."

"Uh-huh…" Lydia pushed herself up to a seated position against the head board. "And you snapped her neck _because_ …?"

"Because it was the only way to ditch her. This gives us a little more time to get away without her raising the alarm."

"Right. That makes sense. Or it _would_ , if I knew why we were trying to get away…" Lydia stared up at Caroline and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Look, all I know is that Stefan said I needed to get rid of Elena and grab you. He's hiding out in a safe place and we need to get there. _Now_."

"And I should just go with you? Without anybody I know?" She raised an eyebrow. "No offense, sweetheart, but that's _not_ going to happen."

Frustrated, Caroline rolled her eyes and dug her phone out, dialing Stefan's number. He picked up on the first ring. "Lydia doesn't want to go," she said without preamble.

Stefan sighed. "Hold on."

A beat passed, and then Malia's voice came across. "Put her on."

Caroline pivoted and handed her phone to Lydia. "Here."

Lydia eyed it skeptically, but plucked the phone from her outstretched fingers and raised it to her ear. "Yes?"

"It's me. Lydia, you need to get here. We have Bonnie and we have a plan, but we need you."

Lydia chewed her lip. "I need you to be honest with me… Do you trust them?"

Malia paused, and then said, "I do. I know it's crazy, but… I trust Damon. And I think we can do this. I… I think we have a chance to save people."

Staring at her lap a long moment, she closed her eyes and rubbed a hand over her forehead. "All right. I'll see you soon. Just… Be careful."

"I will."

Hanging up, Lydia handed the phone back to Caroline and then shuffled her way off the bed. Her knees were weak under her, but she refused to show it. Smoothing her hands down her sides, she raised her chin stubbornly. "I need a minute to get dressed."

"Sure. Just be as quick as you can."

Lydia rolled her eyes as she walked to the dresser. Scott, ever prepared, had brought a go-bag, and Lydia dug around inside for something to wear that wasn't sweatpants and hoodie. As she was walking to the en suite, she noticed Elena's hand twitch. "She's waking up," she warned.

With a sigh, Caroline walked over to Elena. "Sorry… You can yell at me later." She snapped Elena's neck a second time and then plopped down at the end of the bed, crossed her legs, and waited for Lydia.

After changing her clothes, Lydia dug her own phone out and texted Scott.

 _—Malia called. They have a plan. I'll text you when I know more. ily xo_

Before he could reply, she put it away in her pocket. Wiping under her eyes to get rid of her smudged eyeliner, she finger-combed her hair, and then stepped back into the room to greet Caroline. "Okay. Let's go."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Can we go over this one more time?" Stefan sighed as he rubbed his fingers along the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to remove your _heart_ …"

"Yes."

"Which won't kill you completely, just _sort of?_ "

Damon shrugged. "It'll kill me enough to send me to the other side. But I'm anchored here. I can't leave this plane completely. Just like Bonnie can't. Not unless we untether from each other."

"Okay. And somehow, you're going to find the spirits of your _dead_ children… Do I have that right?"

Staring at him a moment, seeming amused, Damon nodded. "I'm going to request that their spirits be allowed to join me on this side."

"Uh-huh…" Stefan nodded, staring at him through narrowed eyes. "And your children, who you haven't seen since they were kids, will just… Come with you. Talk your wife down. Say goodbye and then… Pass over again. No questions asked."

"They have no anchor here. Any time they spend over here is limited." He shrugged. "Think of it like a weekend pass."

"A weekend pass." Stefan laughed incredulously. "Right. That makes sense."

" _Stefan_ …" Sheila stared at him warningly.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a little…" He waved his hand around. "Can we go back to the sixty-forty thing? Because I feel like there has to be another option here… One with better odds, maybe."

The front door of the house could be heard creaking open and then snapping shut. "Stefan…?" Caroline's voice called.

Deflating with relief, Stefan's shoulders slumped. " _Thank God_ … We're in here!"

"Hey…" Caroline smiled as she entered the room. Spotting Stefan, she grew worried. "Everything okay?"

He forced a smile. "Something like that."

Lydia walked deeper into the room, her gaze set on the body laid out on a table. A shiver ran through her, a feeling that wasn't quite cold but not warm either. She could tell that the woman wasn't breathing. That her heart wasn't beating. And yet, death hadn't completely overtaken her either. She just _was_ …

Before she knew it, she was standing at the woman's shoulder, a hand outstretched, fingers trembling just an inch from her cheek.

"Not yet, Little One."

Lydia jumped. Her hand recoiled, fist pressed tight to her chest. Turning her head, she found a man beside her. Pale with bright blue eyes.

He smiled at her slowly, and reached out, tucking a purple flower behind her ear. "We haven't been introduced. I'm Damon. And you must be Lydia…"

Swallowing tightly, she nodded. The same feeling she was getting from the woman was wafting off of him, but there was something else, something more. A thread of pain that seemed to ricochet around her heart, dull and distant, not hers, but…" Her gaze fell and focused on Damon's chest, where the fabric of his shirt was damp.

He raised a hand and pressed a finger to his lips in a 'shh' motion. And then he turned, clapping his hands together and casting a smile at everyone else. "We should get the show on the road. We only have so much time here…"

"Show?" Caroline raised an eyebrow at him and turned to Stefan expectantly.

"Yeah." His mouth quirked at the corners humorlessly. "We're gonna kill him."

"We _what?_ "

Stefan shook his head. "It's a long story…"

"Not really." Malia came to a stop next to them. "Damon needs to get the spirit of his kids from the other side, so Stefan's gonna pull his heart out so he can crossover. Then Lydia's going to bring him back with her banshee scream. Damon will wake up Bonnie and let her say goodbye to her kids, giving her closure or whatever, and then crisis averted."

Caroline blinked at her and then looked to Stefan.

"All right, it wasn't long, it was just _insane_."

"The best plans usually are." Damon frowned. "Do we have another table around here?"

"There's one in the dining room." Stefan sighed as he walked to the door, and the others followed him out. He dragged the drop cover off the table and motioned to it. "Will this work?"

"It's fine." Damon knocked a fist against the top of the table and then reached for the buttons of his shirt. "Look, the only thing you have to do is pull my heart out. And when Lydia calls for me, you just put it back where you found it."

Stefan frowned. "That's it?"

Damon parted his shirt and laid himself down on the table. "I'll be hungry when I wake up. I'll need blood bags."

Caroline dug a few out of her bag. "I have some. Will this do?"

He looked over to her and nodded.

Sheila came to a stop at Damon's shoulder and motioned to his chest. "How long has that been going on?"

Damon glanced at his open and bleeding wound. "Don't worry, Witchling. It'll heal when it's ready to."

" _Wait!_ Can we just… slow down for a second?" Lydia looked around at everyone. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm still figuring out this banshee thing. I… I can't guarantee I'll be able to _'call you back_.'"

"You will." Damon stared up at her, and then reached a hand out, folding it around hers. "That pressure you feel in your head… All you have to do is listen to it. Stop blocking it out and just let it in. You'll know when it's time."

Lydia shook her head, her eyes burning. "You don't even know me."

"Not personally, no. But you come from my son Dysin's line…" He turned her hand over and pressed his fingers to her pulse. "He loved to read, to learn, to educate himself in every way. You're a smart girl, Lydia. You'll do what's right."

She stared down at him, still scared and unsure. But she nodded. "Okay."

Everybody circled around the table, with Lydia standing above his head and Stefan just to the left of his chest. Malia moved to the opposite side, and carefully touched her fingers to Damon's hand.

Damon half-smiled at her.

She smiled back.

"All right. Let's do this." Damon rested his head back and closed his eyes. When they reopened, they were a milky white. "Make it quick."

Stefan glanced at Caroline at his side; she leaned over to press her should against his. Taking a deep breath, Stefan reached out. He pressed his fingers through the still healing wound on Damon's chest, pried the skin apart, and hooked his hand beneath the heart. Finally, with one hard pull, he tore it from Damon's chest.

Lydia stumbled, her eyes rolling back in her head, and blood dribbling from her nose. Braeden caught her before she hit the ground, and wrapped a steady arm around her waist.

Lydia's skin turned clammy and her eyes grew distant. "Dead… He's _dead."_

* * *

 **...**

* * *

While the other side looked the same, it was tinted a strange and eerie blue. Damon pushed himself up off the table and buttoned the center of his shirt, but left the fabric hang as it please. He walked through the old house until he reached the backyard, bordering on the forest. There was a pull deep in his chest, guiding him, and he marched forward into the woods.

He couldn't hear the skittering of feet or heartbeats or rushing blood anywhere nearby. The branches were bare of any curious crows and not a leaf seemed to ruffle. The world was simply silent, and empty.

Damon moved quickly, crossing a creek and mossy logs, until he finally came upon his tree. The one that marked his burial so long ago. The branches were gnarled, the bark so dark it was nearly black. And in between every crevice, blood coursed like they were following the veins of the earth. Reaching out, he pressed a hand to the bleeding trunk. The heartbeat that had once thrummed inside was now absent.

White light broke through the branches above, nearly blinding it was so bright. Damon raised a hand to block his eyes, blinking away the spots that appeared in his vision. He could feel the pull, the demand that he let himself be taken. But as much as it wanted him, it could not take him against his will. He was tethered to the other side, both by heart and soul.

"Given my position, I don't have much to work with. You were owed a debt a long time ago. I can't give you my life, not yet. I can't guarantee when, either. And you might not be feeling particularly kind to me, given the current state of the world. But I'm asking you, _please_ … Let me see them…"

The light seemed to grow brighter, and the pull stronger, but still he remained, feet rooted to the ground, where the blood of his tree collected all around him.

"Lives depend on this." He gritted his teeth. "I've spent millenniums down here, a piece on someone else's Chess board… _No more_." He dropped his hand and stared up into the light. "I've sacrificed enough for you. For _them_. You'll give me my children. _Now_. You owe me this!"

The light went out. The woods fell dark. Even the eerie blue tint seemed to dull.

Damon took a deep breath, his chest twisted up in regret and anguish and anger.

And then—

 _"Papa?_ "

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Lucy sighed, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at the still and grey form of Damon. To her aunt, she muttered, "It's been almost an hour…"

Jamie was pacing, chewing on his thumbnail. "What if he crosses over and they just _keep_ him?"

Stefan shook his head. "He said it would work."

"He said it had a sixty-forty _chance_ of working." Jamie ran a hand over his head. "All I'm saying is we didn't think this through. What if he stays dead and _she_ wakes up? It's not gonna look so good if her husband's dead and this guy's holding his _heart_!"

Sheila looked up then. "Go." She waved him toward the door. "Check on her. See if there's any change."

Jamie grimaced, but then turned and walked to the door.

"I'll go with you." Abby followed after her son, passing a concerned look back at Braeden and Lucy.

Room left silent once more, Braeden forced a grin. "Typical guy. He's just late."

Sheila rubbed a tired hand over her face. "Let's hope so."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"M'kenna…?" Damon turned abruptly, and stared with wide eyes at the woman before him. She was nearly as tall as him.

"It's you. It's _you_." She laughed emotionally, tears spilling, and hurried toward him. "Papa!"

Damon grabbed her up, his arms wrapping around her tightly, one hand buried in her hair. He clutched her to him, unwilling to let go, and pressed his face against her shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath. "You've grown."

She choked out a laugh. "I have."

He leaned back a little to see her again. She looked nothing like she had when he'd last seen her, but he'd know those eyes and the shape of her nose anywhere. He wiped at her cheeks with his thumbs, brushing back her tears. And then he startled, and looked around. "Neci and Dysin?"

Her face fell. "It is only me. Are you angry?"

" _No_. No, of course not." He kissed her forehead and hugged her once more. "You are more than enough… More than I could hope for."

She breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him back. A full minute passed before she asked, "Why did you call for us? Why now?"

He rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "I need your help."

"With mother?"

He nodded.

M'Kenna tipped her head back to look at him, sincere and strong. "I will do everything I can."

He smiled tremulously. "I know."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

The pressure was building inside Lydia's temples. She could feel her vocal chords begin to vibrate. Closing her eyes, Lydia breathed through her nose and searched for control. She pushed past the pressure and searched for… _something_. Was it Damon asking to be called back or something else? There was so much death here it was hard to differentiate one from another.

When she opened her eyes, however, she wasn't in the musty dining room anymore. Instead, she was in a damp, dark cellar. She could hear an eerie dripping coming from the ceiling and feel murky, cold water lapping at her ankles. Her eyes darted around from behind the wet hunks of her hair, falling across her face.

"Can you hear me?" a voice whispered at her ear, so close, and yet echoing all around the room.

Lydia's lungs squeezed in her chest as she gave one small nod.

"Listen closely… Things are not as they seem. There are powers at work you have yet to meet…" A wind brushed at her back and she shivered in response. But then hands, _warm warm warm_ , clasped her face. "Listen," she said from afar. And then, " _Listen_ ," she whispered very close.

Lydia swallowed past her fear. "I—I'm listening."

" _Shh, it's okay. Be calm, Little One_ ," a murmur against her ear. Louder, more serious, "When they come for you, let them take you. When she asks for your help, give her this. _Give it to her. Let her see. She has to see._ "

Lydia stared, wide-eyed at the shadowed woman in front of her. "Give her wh-what?"

The woman's fingers climbed Lydia's face until they reached her temples. " _This_."

The pressure intensified, doubling and tripling. With a pained moan, Lydia threw her head back and squeezed her eyes closed. When she reopened them, she found herself back in the dining room. "It's time… He's found her," she panted.

Stefan, still holding Damon's heart, let it hover atop his chest. "Ready when you are."

"Is this going to hurt?" Lucy wondered. As the collective turned to stare at her, she motioned to her ears and then to Lydia. "When she calls him?"

Malia shrugged vaguely. " _Maybe._ "

"Great…"

Looking around at each other, everyone that could covered their ears with their hands.

Lydia placed her hands on either of Damon's temples and took a deep breath. The sound she let loose let out was strangely silent. But the soundwaves caused a strange tension to ripple through the room. Pressure filled every inch of the room to the brim, and then it broke. The walls cracks, the windows shattered in the sills, and the lamps danced, pulling and twisting from their roots at the ceiling.

As her mouth closed, Stefan shoved the heart back into Damon's chest, and stepped back, staring down at him for any sign of life.

A beat passed.

And then another.

Finally, with a gasp, Damon sat up, veins rippling across his cheeks.

Caroline shoved the blood bags at him and he grabbed up the closest, sinking his teeth into it and drinking the bag in a few quick guzzles.

Slumped against Braeden, Lydia offered a tired smile. "I see her…" She stared at the corner of the room, seemingly empty to everyone else. There, a woman stood. "She's beautiful."

The group turned to look, but M'kenna went unseen by their eyes.

On his second blood bag, Damon tracked M'Kenna's progress as she cross the room to him. He watched as each person shivered when she passed them. "Her name is M'Kenna."

Stefan looked around curiously. "She's going to help?"

"What about the others?" Malia wondered.

"They only sent one through." Damon wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "She'll help."

Sheila gave a short nod before asking, "And now?"

M'Kenna placed a weightless hand on Damon's shoulder. He took a deep breath. "Now… we wake up Bonnie."

"Yeah. Only one problem with that…" Lucy stood at the door between the parlor and the dining room, holding it open with her hip. Looking back at them grimly, she said, "Bonnie's body is gone. And so are Jamie and Abby."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _thank you to everyone who sent 'get well' wishes. i appreciate every one of them!_

 _to everyone who was worried about damon's 'death' i hope this calmed your fears._

 _i think this might be the longest chapter yet. i considered chopping it a little earlier, but i like where it leaves off and how it sets things up for the next chapter. :)_

 _before anybody jumps to conclusions about jamie and abby, remember who else is in this game and what they've been up to… ;)_

 _thank you all for reading. please try to leave a comment!  
_ \- **Lee | Fina**


	10. the self righteous

**chapter rating** : teen  
 **warnings** : violence, coarse language  
 **word count** : 5,570

* * *

 **x.**

Damon hardly had time to let what Lucy had said sink in before he smelled it. _Smoke_. Shoving off the table, he looked first to M'Kenna, and then to Malia. "Fire. Everybody needs to get outside."

A chorus of _'what'_ answered him, but then the smell went from faint to _overwhelming_. The wall separating the parlor from the dining room suddenly started to crack and flames burst through, crawling up toward the ceiling.

Caroline let out a shout of surprise and backed up, right into Stefan. His hands steadied her, cupped under her elbows.

Damon's hand found Malia's shoulder and nudged her forward. "Go. Get Lydia out."

She nodded up at him and then crossed the room, taking Lydia's arm and pulling her through a door that led through the kitchen.

"Time to go, Bennetts." He walked past them. "Stay with Stefan. I'll find you when it's over."

Sheila grabbed at his arm. "I know my daughter. She didn't do this. She didn't take Bonnie."

He looked back at her, an eyebrow raised. "I believe you."

Her brow furrowed in surprise.

" _Go_." He looked past her to Stefan and Caroline then.

They hurried forward. Caroline hooked a hand around Lucy and Braeden's elbows and pulled. They were gone in a flash. But Stefan lingered, waiting for a cue from Sheila.

She looked up at him, and then back to Damon. "They're your family, too. We all are." She nodded to Stefan then, and let him whisk her away.

Damon took a deep breath, smoothed a hand down his shirt, and walked to the door of the parlor.

M'Kenna followed after him, eyeing him worriedly. "Do you know what you're doing, Papa?"

"You remember when you were a little girl, and you went down to the lake? You didn't tell any of us you were going. Your mom lost it. She was terrified something had happened to you or someone took you."

"I remember."

"We searched everywhere. All of your favorite places." He made his way through the house, watching the fire eat away at the walls and burn the drop cloths that covered everything. The heat had never bothered him. At his core, he lived and breathed fire. Which was why, when Neci seemed so fascinated by the fire, he hadn't batted an eye. She was just like him.

M'Kenna though, _wasn't_. She loved the water. He thought, distantly, that at least she couldn't feel it now.

Her spirit kept pace with him, curious eyes moving around the room, nose wrinkled with distaste. She got that from her mother.

"We couldn't find you, weren't sure where you went, but I knew… Deep down. I knew that you were okay. I could feel it." He tapped a hand over his chest. "I always knew when you and your siblings were okay. When you were sad. When you were scared."

M'Kenna stared at him curiously. "Can you feel mother?"

"She's still asleep. They haven't harmed her."

"What else do you feel?"

He paused, and stared out the front window of the house, the glass still littering the floor from Lydia's banshee scream. In front of the house stood a line of people, their hands linked together. At the forefront was a man, smirking sinisterly. "Mania… Amusement… A complete lack of fear or empathy."

M'Kenna frowned, and turned her head to follow his gaze. "That one."

"That one," he agreed.

"What will you do?"

Damon turned to look at her. "Find Malia. Stay with her. I'll find you when I'm done."

M'Kenna shook her head and opened her mouth to argue.

"When I found you, you were laying on your back, floating in the middle of the lake. And you were laughing. You said the fish were very funny."

"They were."

"You've always been a kind soul, M'Kenna. You've always been good and loving. You're like your mother that way."

She frowned. "Mama wasn't the only kind one."

"Do you remember what I said to you when I found you?"

Swallowing tightly, she nodded. "You said you loved me… That if anything ever happened to me, you did not know what you would become, but it would not be anything good."

Black scales crawled down the sides of Damon's eyes and flames burst in his eyes. "My greatest accomplishment in my life was my family. Loving your mother, having you and Neci and Dysin. You were everything to me. And when I lost you, I lost something in me. Something I'm not sure I can find again."

"Papa…" M'Kenna reached for him. "Think of mama. What would she want?"

"She would want to live…" His eyes narrowed. "And they're impeding that."

He stepped forward then, and in a flash, he was through the broken window and standing in the yard. He felt M'Kenna's spirit linger for just a moment, and then it dissipated. He cast his gaze up and down the line of people, and spotted a familiar, and terrified face staring back at him. The blonde – _Valerie_ – from the Grill.

"I believe you have a few of my people." Damon rubbed his hands together as he raised an eyebrow. "I'd like them back."

The man in the center grinned. " _Or?_ "

Damon bared long, sharp teeth. "I don't think you understand what you're dealing with here."

"No. But I'm _really_ curious to find out…"

Damon laughed, low and warning, and then raised his hands up. The fire that had been eating its way through the house suddenly redirected its path. Like a vacuum, it was pulled through the window to feed itself into Damon's fingers and eyes and the open wound on his chest. His skin pulsed with an orange glow for a moment, and then dulled back down. Black smoke plumed from the window and created a strange backdrop for him.

"I want my witches," Damon said, his voice growing deep. "And I want my _wife_."

The man at the front took a step forward, unlinking from the others. "Tough break. I feel for you. You should really be more careful about who you trust… Unfortunately, we _really_ need to hold on to Mama Witch a while longer. As for the other two, I'd hand them over, a little worse for wear I'm sure, but… I don't have them. Looks like you have a bit of a kidnapping issue on your hands." He winked. "Good luck with that."

Damon's lip curled. "I've been trying to be nicer to people. Or at least not to kill them as often. It's a recent decision. See, my wife's not a big fan of mass homicide. But if you don't hand her over—"

The man tisked, and wagged a finger. "I'm gonna stop you there. I can see you've got a light show brewing, but…" He sucked his teeth. "It's not gonna do much." He walked toward Damon, until he was just in front of him, and then thrust a hand forward, straight through Damon's chest. There was no pain, however; it was as if the hand that had gone through him was made of air.

With a laugh, the man said, "I'm not really here. This is just a projection of my coven. Part of it anyway. Let's just call this the main players…" Turning on his heel, he waved a hand back to the line behind him. "I think you've met Valerie already. I wouldn't say she's singing your praises, but you know how it goes. That's Beau. He's not much of a talker. And that's Oscar, Nora, and Mary Louise. Malcolm would be here too, except he's currently in pieces all over Mystic Grill. _Whoops_."

"And you?" Damon stared at him.

" _I_ … am Malachi. But you can call me Kai." He grinned. "Should I call you _dad_ or…?"

"Not if you value your tongue."

"Oooh… _Violent_. You know, I really think we're gonna get along." He backed up then. "We'll talk later, okay? After mom's awake and we've got this apocalypse on the right track." With a salute, he took the hands of Nora and Beau. And then, just like that, they were gone.

Taking a deep breath, Damon let out an angry yell. Fire roared out of him, consumed the house at his back, and rendered it little more than a hill of ash.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Scott marched into the boarding house angry, his eyes flashing red. In the parlor, he found most of the witches, Matt, Sarah, Stefan and Caroline. Teeth bared, he growled, "Where is Lydia?"

Stiles jogged in after him. He came to a stumbling stop and reared his face back, nose scrunched. "Yeah, and why does everyone smell like smoke?"

"She's supposed to be here." Caroline looked around worriedly. "She and Malia went first. We were attacked at the other house. But she was _fine_."

" _What_ house?" Scott looked between her and Stefan demandingly.

Stefan sighed. "We found Bonnie."

"She's _awake?_ " Jeremy stood next to Alaric, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"No. Not exactly. Look… Damon had a plan. He was going to bring his children back, or the spirits at least, to talk Bonnie down."

Caroline nodded. "That's why we needed Lydia. We had to remove Damon's heart so he could crossover, and Lydia was the only one who could call him back."

Scott looked between them. "Then where _is_ she?"

"Someone attacked the house. They took Bonnie, Abby, and Jamie." Caroline grimaced. "Damon stayed behind to fight them and sent us ahead. Lydia and Malia left first. We thought they'd be here."

"You left them _alone_ , after three people were just _kidnapped?_ "

Stefan grimaced. "This wasn't on purpose. We had a lot of people to think about. The house was on _fire_."

"Are you sure they got out?" Stiles worried, beginning to fidget. "They could've gotten trapped in the house…"

Scott turned to him, stricken.

Elena walked into the room then, rubbing at her neck. "What the _hell_ , Caroline!?"

Caroline winced. "I'm _sorry!_ But you would've followed us or _told_ someone. At least I brought you back to the boarding house…"

Worried, Tyler walked to Elena, reaching a hand out to her and letting it run over her back soothingly. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Caroline broke my neck. _Twice!_ "

" _What?_ " Tyler turned to them, his eyes turning gold.

Stefan stepped forward and pressed an arm back, covering Caroline. "Look, this isn't Caroline's fault. Everybody just needs to calm down. We'll explain what happened."

"You broke my sister's neck and now three people are _missing_." Jeremy glared. "Please enlighten us!"

"Four people," Caroline corrected.

"Right, sorry, I forgot you also lost the most powerful witch in all of existence… _My bad_."

Lucy rolled her eyes. As amusing as all of this was, it wasn't helping anybody.

While the others continued to fight, Sheila turned to her and Braeden. "We need to find Abby and Jamie."

Lucy nodded her head to the door leading into the adjacent room. Under her breath, she asked, "Locator spell?"

Sheila nodded, and then glanced back to the others. Too preoccupied to notice them, they slipped out.

Braeden closed the doors behind them and then took a seat at the table. "So, who are we liking for this? 'Cause it's no secret you guys have your fair share of enemies out here. There was that coven that's been chasing you all over town. Not to mention anybody who has an interest in Bonnie or Damon."

Suddenly exhausted with the whole of it, Sheila shook her head. "I don't know. There are too many options right now. We need to narrow them down."

"Then we will." Lucy started looking around the room, digging around for the maps she knew were tucked somewhere. She'd done her fair share of locator spells in this room in the past. "A-ha! Here." She brought it over to the table and unrolled it, using a heavy book to anchor down each side.

Sheila used a pin from her hair to prick her finger and held it over the map, letting it drip down onto the paper.

Together, she and Lucy chanted, " _Phasmatos tribum nas ex veras, sequita saguines, ementas asten mihan ega petous_ …"

Blood dotted the crinkled map. Slowly, it formed into one cohesive drop and began to move. But just when it seemed to be going somewhere, the map caught fire and the blood scattered in five different directions.

"Shit." Braeden pushed past Sheila to put the fire out and then frowned back at them. "What the hell does that mean?"

Sheila's lips pursed. "Someone's blocking us."

"Well, it tells us one thing…" Lucy sighed. "Whoever these assholes are, they have at least one witch on their side."

A banging noise caught their attention then, and their heads whipped toward the door.

"Think we need to step in…?" Lucy moved to the door and pushed it open. "Never mind." She smiled slowly. "Looks like Gilbert's finally getting his."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Damon arrived at the boarding house in a fury. He pushed past the door and marched inside to find Stefan and Tyler about to tear each other's throats out. Uninterested, he demanded, "Which one of you is the rat?"  
The room went quiet as heads swiveled in his direction.

Damon didn't need them to come forward. Just like all of them, he could feel it, the sickly feeling of arrogance that permeated from him. Damon's eyes narrowed in on the source. The boy. _Jeremy Gilbert_ , Stefan's memories offered.

In a flash, Damon was across the room, his hand wrapped around Gilbert's throat as he lifted him off the ground. " _You_ ," he snarled

The boy choked in reply, clawing at the hand around his neck.

"Hey!" Elena rushed him, grabbing at his shoulder and pulling as hard as she could. "What the hell is your problem? He's just a kid! Put him down!"

Damon's fiery eyes bore into her. "This _kid_ is a _rat_."

" _What?_ " She stared at him incredulously. "No, he isn't. Let him _go!_ "

"Just as soon as he explains himself."

"That might be difficult with your hand around his throat," Stefan said calmly.

Damon glanced at him, considered his words, and then nodded. He released Jeremy, and watched as he dropped abruptly to the ground. Coughing and choking, his face an unattractive purple, he turned himself over and gasped for air.

"Jer…" Elena knelt next to him, rubbing his back soothingly.

He shrugged her off and pushed up to his feet. Angry, he turned around to confront Damon, spittle falling from his lips. Voice scratchy from coughing, he choked out, "What the _hell!?_ "

Damon's lip curled. "Why do it? What'd you have to prove?"

"Do _what?_ "

"You told them, Kai and the coven, where we were."

A muscle ticked in Jeremy's cheek and he clenched his teeth.

"Let me be clear…" Damon waved a hand around. "Human, hunter, I don't give a flying _fuck_. Because of you, my wife is with a coven of _heretics_. Two of my witches are missing—"

"Malia and Lydia are, too," Caroline added.

Damon turned to her, his eyes flashing, and then turned a vicious look back to Jeremy. "You're not doing well here. So, I'm going to advise you to start talking. Or I'm going to choke you again… _with your intestines_."

"Everybody just needs to _calm down_!" Elena stepped up next to her brother. "I don't know where you got your information, but Jeremy didn't—"

" _Wrong_. Do you want to tell her, _Jer_? Or should I?"

Jeremy remained quiet, simply glaring at him.

"Kai said we should be careful about who we trust. What I can't figure out is how you even knew where we were…" He stared at him searchingly. "Stefan said the house was safe. Nobody but Caroline knew about it… So, how did you?"

Jeremy glanced away.

"Jeremy…" Elena pulled at his arm, worried and confused.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

" _What_?"

Tyler rubbed his hands over his face as he sighed. "What the hell did you do?"

Self-righteous, Jeremy glared at all of them. "She was a bomb waiting to go off! While you were all just hoping she'd take _pity_ on us I did something about it!"

"You told our _enemies_ where to find our best shot at surviving?" Stiles threw her his hands up. "Dude, where's the common sense?"

"They're _siphons_. She's the most powerful creature alive. If they could take that power away from her, she'd stop sending out a signal and everybody could just, _I don't know_ , leave. Crawl back into whatever hole they came out of."

"Two problems with that…" Damon reached out and grabbed at the back of Jeremy's neck, pulling him forward. He raised a finger for emphasis. " _One_. If that worked, and they took every last bit of magic out of Bonnie, she'd _die_. You know what happens when Bonnie dies…? The rest of you die. Not because you're connected, no. Because _I'll kill you_. You want to see an apocalypse, kid. I'll show you the likes of one that'll give you nightmares in your _grave_." His skin turned black and scaled, curls of smoke rippling off of him.

Jeremy cried out as Damon's hand began to burn the back of his neck.

Unmoved, Damon merely held up a second finger. " _Two_. It won't work. Because if you'd been around in the Grill earlier, you'd know the siphons can't handle power like ours. Siphons were never made to hold on to magic. That's why they have to keep stealing it off other people. They're a broken link, vampire or not. The only people who can take on Bonnie's magic are witches, and that's if she _chooses_ to let them have it. If you try to take it, the magic turns on you, it _attacks_. It's a protective measure so idiots like you and Kai and every other supernatural dickwad out there doesn't try to take what isn't theirs and stage their own version of world domination."

"Okay, he gets it. That's enough!" Elena pulled at Damon's arm, but he wouldn't be moved.

"Does he?" Damon stared down at Jeremy, who was wriggling in pain, bubbling sores breaking out along his neck. "Five people are missing, possibly in danger, because Jeremy decided he knew better."

"And he won't do it again." Elena stared up at Damon, her eyes hard. "I get it. You're worried. Bonnie is your family. Well, Jeremy is mine. Idiot or not, he's all I've got. So, _please_ … Let him go."

Damon stared at her a beat, then curled his lip in derision and released Jeremy from his hold.

Jeremy fell to the ground, groaning in pain and carefully reaching for the sores and broken skin on his neck. Elena followed him down, kneeling at his side. She bit into her wrist and offered it to him. "Here. It'll heal you."

But Jeremy shoved her arm away in disgust.

"Jeremy, you're _hurt_."

"And stupid," Damon muttered, before turning to Stefan and Caroline. "Where are the Bennetts?"

"Over here." Lucy waved from where she stood in the doorway, grinning. "Probably not a popular opinion, but I like you."

Sheila rolled her eyes and made her way toward Damon. "Kai has them?"

"He has Bonnie. I asked about Jamie and Abby, but he doesn't seem to know where they are."

"You believe him?"

"He would've rubbed it in more if he had them. For now, all he has is Bonnie." Damon cut a look between her and Stefan. "What about Malia and Lydia?"

"They went missing somewhere between there and here…" Caroline shook her head. "If Kai doesn't have them…"

"What about Klaus?" Stefan's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "He was at the Grill when things went south. He's met Damon. He and Elijah seemed worried about what he was and what we could do…"

"But how would they find us?" Caroline chewed her lip. "Wait, how did _Kai_ find us?"

Damon looked to Jeremy, a brow raised.

Jeremy, now sitting upright, his arms resting on his knees, rolled his eyes. "His coven has been chasing Abby and the others… He had a tracking spell on them or something. That's how they kept finding them. I told him the witches were acting weird and I thought they were digging Bonnie up, he made a plan from there."

"Maybe Klaus didn't follow us… Maybe he followed Kai."

"Kai and his coven projected themselves there," Damon said. "They caused the fire from afar. We have no idea how long ago they took Bonnie. Were Klaus and his buddies just sitting around hoping someone would come out?"

"Well, whoever took them, we need to find them. _All_ of them." Scott stepped up, arms crossed over his chest. "Derek's already looking for Malia. Lydia texted me before she left that you were planning something. He's been scenting her out ever since."

Stiles waved his phone at them. "He says he caught her trail for a while, but then something about 'magical interference.' Anyway, he lost it."

Sheila nodded. "We can't do a locator spell either. Someone's blocking us."

Alaric shrugged. "Then we're just going to have to hunt them down the old-fashioned way."

"Fine." Damon pointed to Jeremy. "But he's out."

Tyler scoffed. "Since when do you call the shots around here?"

"Ty…" Matt shook his head at him.

" _What?_ So, we're just gonna let the demon play ring leader now? The whole point of all of us getting together was that we would all have a say."

Rolling his eyes, Damon looked back at him. "Fine. Group vote. Who wants to kick Jeremy out of any future planning committees since he's a lying liar who can't be trusted? Raise your hand."

Slowly, the majority of the group looked around at each other and raised their hands.

" _Guys!_ " Elena exclaimed. "It's not like everybody else has exactly been _trustworthy_ either. Stefan and Caroline dug up a demon after we all agreed _not to_. The witches dug up Bonnie without even telling us and then tried to hide her at a house we don't even know about! And _he_ —" She stabbed a finger in Damon's direction, "—kills or maims whoever he wants!"

"I have a perfectly good reason for any and all killing and maiming," Damon said lightly.

Sheila pinched the bridge of her nose and then waved a hand, demanding silence from everyone. "We dug up Bonnie because of how _foolish_ everyone else was getting. Jeremy was talking about killing this woman in her grave. He wouldn't listen to reason about the repercussions of even trying. And don't _tell me_ that he wouldn't have. He went to a coven of heretics that have been hunting down my family and burning them out of their homes like this is the goddamn witch trials all over again. That boy is a threat to all of us. He doesn't know half of what's going on but he wants to play like he knows everything. Well, no more. Every single one of you is alive because a witch _created_ you. Now that witch is being held by a sociopath. I won't put the fate of me and mine at risk because your brother thinks he knows better."

The room grew quiet and heavy for a moment.

"She has a point." Stiles winced as eyes quickly turned in his direction. "Hey, I'm not saying I didn't actively suggest we put a pitchfork in the Supreme before she killed all of us. But there are limits to even _my_ worst case scenarios."

"I'm not kicking my brother out." Elena stood, her hands on her hips.

"We're not throwing him to the dogs," Stefan assured. "But we can't exactly plan a counter attack against Kai if we're worried Jeremy might leak the details back to him."

Tyler shook his head. "We can't let him leave either."

" _Tyler!_ " Elena turned to him, hurt.

"Look, I'm saying this to keep all of us safe. Jeremy included. He needs to stay here, where he can't be hurt and where he can't tell anybody anything…" He looked around at everyone. "I'm not saying that I agree with everything going on here. And I definitely don't trust _him_." He motioned to Damon. "But the world is on the verge of ending and I think we're all teetering on the edge, so some of us are acting out of fear and doing really stupid things."

Elena wrapped her arms around herself and looked away.

"All I'm saying is that Jeremy is a risk not only to us but to himself… He needs to stay at the boarding house."

" _Where_?"

"Where we put everyone that's a problem…" Stefan sighed. "The cellar."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

The heels of Abby's boots clicked on the marble floor as she marched through the mansion on a mission. A hybrid and a vampire kept pace at her back; silent, stoic, and always on guard.

Throwing open the doors to the library, she walked inside and set narrowed eyes on the only man present, sitting at a large, antique desk. "Where the _hell_ is my son?"

"Ah. You're awake." Elijah closed his book and set it aside. Seeing the dark look on her face, he nodded. "I imagine if you had your powers right now, you'd be doing everything you could to make my head explode."

"Oh no. I'd start much smaller than that. Really drag it out. Why kill you quick when I can make sure you felt every bit of it?"

His mouth turned up faintly. "You were never one for false pleasantries, were you?"

"I'm not here to play games with you, Elijah. Where is my son?"

"Safe. Sleeping, so far as I know. He has a room upstairs." He sat back in his chair. "They've treated you kindly, haven't they? Klaus' hybrids can be a little… _abrupt_."

"They take after him then." Her hands found her hips, fingers drumming. "Why am I here?"

"I'd think you'd appreciate having a roof over your head. Last I heard, you were being burned out of your many safe houses."

"So, you brought me here out of the kindness of your heart…?" She snorted, and arched an eyebrow. "Try again."

Elijah pursed his mouth to hide his amusement and stood from his chair. He waved to her guards, silently telling them to leave. The doors closed behind them, leaving the room to the two of them. Fiddling with his cuff links, Elijah walked toward her, gaze bouncing around her face. "You look tired, Abigail."

"You really know how to compliment a girl."

As he came to a stop in front of her, he reached out, delicately brushing her hair back from her face. "I did. Once upon a time."

She knocked his hand away. "A lifetime ago."

He smiled faintly. "Perhaps." He turned on his heel then, and walked to the drink cart across the room.

As he poured them each a glass, she looked around the room and shook her head. "The world's going to hell and you're up here, in the lap of luxury."

"Better to go content."

"Easy to say when you have that option…" She stared at him searchingly. "Do you even care? Have you even tried to stop this?"

" _This_ being the end of days…? As I hear it, you would know more about it than I." He handed her a glass of bourbon and took a seat on the corner of his desk. "I made the acquaintance of a man named Damon recently… Klaus says he's the husband of a woman they call the _Mother of Magic_ …"

"And?"

"You wanted me to take an interest, didn't you? I can't do much to help if I don't know what's going on."

Abby blinked at him, and then let out a huff of a laugh. "So, that's what this is about?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"You send your goons to kidnap me and my son because you can't stand the fact that you don't know what's happening out there. Instead of getting your hands dirty and trying to fix any of it, you just wait until we do all the hard work, and then demand the details after."

"Are you suggesting you've successfully avoided the apocalypse then?"

"Considering the _'Mother of Magic_ ' was missing when your guys grabbed me and Jamie, I'd say it's just starting."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. "It's a long story."

"I have time."

She laughed humorlessly. "Do you?"

He stared at her a long moment. "You tell me."

Abby took a deep breath. "I want to see my son."

"He hasn't been harmed."

She rolled her eyes. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you."

Elijah stared at her a beat, and then nodded. "There was a time when you trusted me implicitly."

"I was twenty years old. I thought love conquered all back then." She shrugged. "I learned different."

Humming, he tapped his fingers against the rim of his glass, and then stood. "Jamie is on the second floor. Third door on the left. He should be waking up soon. You were each given something that would render your powerless for a time. It'll fade."

Abby turned on her heel to walk to the door.

"I still want to talk. I might seem unaffected, but I have as much to live for as you."

"Playing hero isn't a costume, Elijah. We both know that when it comes down to it, you're selfish. You and yours are the only ones that matter. The rest of us are disposable." With that, she walked away, marching toward the stairs that would lead her back to the only man who had never disappointed her. Her son.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Malia groaned as she sat up. She reached for the back of her head, searching for the source of a dull throbbing. Her hair was in disarray around her face and, when she winced, she could feel an open cut on her forehead. " _Ugh_."

"You've been out for an hour." Lydia kept her voice low, barely a whisper.

Cracking her eyes open, Malia spotted her just to the left. Pushing her back against the wall, she dragged into a crossed position underneath her. "What the hell happened?"

"We were grabbed." Lydia was staring into the distance, wide-eyed and pale. "It's okay. We're supposed to be here."

"What?" Malia blinked a few times and dropped her hand down to her lap. There was a smudge of blood on it. "That's not good. Why aren't I healing?"

"The witches… They did something to you."

"To me? What did I do to _them?_ "

"You fought them. They couldn't risk it." Lydia raised her hand and reached for something in front of her.

"What are you doing?"

"M'Kenna's with us."

"Okay…"

"Don't you see her?"

Malia turned her head and scanned the room. It was dark, but a shaft of light was coming in from the moon, offering a blue tint everywhere it touched. The wallpaper, faded yellow flowers, was peeling. There was a bed shoved against one wall, the blankets were musty. Clearly, the room wasn't used often, or at all. From what Malia could tell, there was only the two of them there. But M'Kenna was a spirit, one she couldn't see, and if anyone could see the dead, it would be Lydia. "Where is she?"

"In front of us." Lydia pressed her hand against something, fingers spread.

And then a figure, faint, but definitely there, came into view, her own hand pressed palm to palm with Lydia's.

Malia blinked. "Uh…"

M'Kenna didn't look much older than them. Malia could see right through her, but the little details were still there. She wore a long, loose dress, and strange symbols seemed to be painted all down her arms. Gold clips held her hair back from her face, which fell in long, springy curls down her back. She had her father's chin, but much of her face resembled her mother. The same upturned lips and almond shaped eyes. She was beautiful.

"M'Kenna?"

The woman smiled warmly, and nodded. Her lips formed the word ' _Malia_ ' but no sound left her.

Still, Malia nodded. She turned to Lydia then. "How are you doing this…?"

Lydia swallowed tightly. "I don't know."

"Well, where are we?" She looked around. "We need to get out of here. Bonnie's missing and—"

"She's here."

"What?"

"Bonnie." Lydia turned to Malia. "I can feel her. Cold but not. Dead but not. She's downstairs."

Malia frowned. "Then whoever took her took us, too… _Why?_ "

A movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn, and Malia found M'Kenna staring at the door worriedly. Her lips moved, over and over, the same word. Malia shook her head as she tried to read it.

And then Lydia whispered, "Danger. She's saying _danger_."

The door swung open then, and a man stepped inside, mouth spread wide in a smirk. Light spilled in from the hallway and made him glow like some angelic reject.

"Ladies…" He waved a hand. "Let's skip the questions and get right to the point. I'm Kai. And you're gonna raise a witch for me. Now…" He snapped his fingers. "Which one of you plays with dead things?"

Malia turned to Lydia, who still had her hand out, pressed to an incorporeal M'Kenna's. M'Kenna bared her teeth at Kai.

"Well, that clears that up."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _i spent way too much time making a family tree for this story, like i spent two days figuring out the details of that sucker. so i almost didn't have time to edit and put this out. i should be sleeping right now. tomorrow's my first day back university, and my first day back at work. it's gonna be roooough. but i wanted this out._

 _head's up: bonnie will be officially awake in the next chapter yaaay!_

 _thank you all for reading! please, please try to leave a review. last chapter had a really low review count. doesn't have to be a dissertation, just let me know what you think!_

 _thanks,_  
\- **Lee | Fina**


	11. a mile walked

**chapter rating** : mature  
 **warnings** : violence, coarse language, gore, death, murder  
 **word count** : 10,365

* * *

 **xi.**

"Can Kai wake Bonnie up?" Stefan was sitting on the arm of a couch, Caroline next to him, while the rest of the group was scattered throughout the parlor.

Jeremy was tucked away in the cellar downstairs, for his and everyone's well-being. How he would be dealt with when this was all over, Stefan wasn't sure. The truth of it was, Jeremy had betrayed them. The fact that he had a way to get a hold of Kai, that he knew they were tracking the Bennetts… It didn't sit right with Stefan. But they needed to stay focused. They couldn't get sidetracked playing judge and jury to Jeremy when the world was on the verge of collapse.

"Technically, Kai and his coven have power, so they _could_ wake her up…" Damon frowned from his seat in an armchair. "But it would take a lot of them. And there's no guarantee they would survive it."

"I don't think Kai _cares_ if it kills any of his little groupies…" Caroline rolled her eyes. "He'll sacrifice whoever. He just wants to use Bonnie like a weapon."

"So, what do we do?" Tyler stood by the fire, arms crossed over his chest. "How do we track them down?"

Damon shrugged. "The only option is following the magic."

Scott frowned. "Following _how?_ "

"If Kai really doesn't have Abby and Jamie, then it wasn't his coven that was blocking us. We might be able to get a lock on Bonnie's magical source. The problem is, her magic runs through all of you. So, there's going to be some false starts."

"Is that the only way?"

"No. Magic gives off a… _smell_. You can scent it out. Especially if it's concentrated."

Scott nodded slowly. "Like if an entire coven is trying to raise a witch?"

"Exactly."

Ric poured himself a glass of bourbon. "But if we do that, how do we know we'll get there in time?"

"We don't." Damon shook his head. "Depending on how much power Kai has on his side, he might raise her quick, or it might take longer."

Derek, book in hand, walked over. "If Kai and the others are siphons, can't they just siphon off whatever power they need and use that to help them…?" He handed the open book to Damon. "Like, say, a banshee, who has a direct connection to death."

Damon stared down at the image of a ghoulish looking girl, screaming to the sky, blood leaking from her eyes and ears, and a ghostly visage floating toward her, their fingers outstretched to meet in the middle. Grinding his teeth, he snapped the book shut. "We need to find them."

Stiles stopped chewing on his thumbnail long enough to ask, "So, should they start sniffing around or…?"

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Elijah sat atop the corner of his desk, his gaze bouncing between Abby, seated in an armchair, and Jamie, standing near the window, tense posture screaming defiance.

The mansion had a bird's eye view of everything that was going on and, last Elijah checked, much of the town seemed suspiciously quiet.

"How long is this 'anti magic' junk supposed to last?" Jamie turned to them, raising an eyebrow at Elijah that reminded him far too much of the boy's mother.

"Long enough that I might get some much needed answers. Afterwards, you're welcome to leave."

He snorted. "Yeah. Real kind of you."

Elijah's gaze moved to Abby, who was pursing her mouth to hide her smile. "Regardless… Now that you've seen your son is well, Abigail, perhaps you could enlighten me as to the background of this… _Mother of Magic_."

"We only know her history as far as we've been told," Jamie answered, staring out the window once more. "And it's not a lot."

"I'm sure it's more than I've gathered."

Abby sighed. "Ever since everything supernatural started showing up here, Stefan's been doing research on why. He found a prophecy that talked about the end of the world and how we'd all face our judgement. Anyway, he started digging further back and he found a link to this witch. The _first_ witch. It's said that she's the most powerful being to ever walk the earth."

"And you've found her?"

Jamie snorted. "We dug her up."

"She's dead then?"

"It's not that simple." Abby rubbed her fingers over her temple. "Stefan and Caroline went looking for her. There was this old book that needed to be translated for them to get anywhere. The translation talked about a tragic past and how the earth swallowed the witch to preserve her. I don't know. But the translation was wrong. Kind of. It implied that if you woke her, you were waking a demon. But what it meant was that in order to _find_ her you needed a demon."

Elijah nodded slowly. "Damon."

"Yeah. Her _husband_." Abby's brows hiked. "Turns out it wasn't just a metaphor, either. He's a _literal_ demon."

"So, the mother of magic is a witch and the father is a demon… Explains quite a bit, actually."

Her mouth kicked up faintly. "Yeah."

Jamie turned to them. "Damon thinks that if Bonnie sees what the world became, how everyone of their descendants turned out, she'll want to level the place. Either that or her grief over losing her family will make her lose it and kill everyone."

"If that's true, then why were you trying to wake her?"

"He had this plan…" Abby shrugged. "He wanted to bring the spirits of his children over to this side, to give his wife closure. Once she found peace, she wouldn't want to destroy everything."

"He didn't seem too concerned about the town last I saw him… He was happily killing whomever he pleased."

"Yeah, well, apparently he's had a change of heart."

"You don't find that curious?"

"I find a lot of things curious. Like why an Original suddenly cares about what witches are doing. How that same Original even knew where to send Klaus' hybrid goons to find us. What, if anything, he plans to do now that he knows there's someone out there that's stronger than him…" She stared at him seriously. "It's no secret that you and yours get a little… _offended_ when you think someone's climbing higher on the food chain than you."

"Preservation has allowed me and mine to survive this long."

She hummed and leaned forward in her seat, resting her arms on her legs. "So, what does that mean for the rest of us?"

Elijah stared at her a heavy beat and then turned his gaze away. "This Bonnie… She disappeared when you were taken?"

"We were checking on her and her body was gone. If you don't have it—"

"I don't. If I'd known a being that valuable was in the house, I might've acted soon. But I didn't."

"What _did_ you know?"

He smiled faintly, humorlessly, and dragged a hand down the front of his jacket. "Are you asking who my source was?"

"You don't think I deserve to know?"

"I think you deserve a great deal more than you've ever received…"

Abby sat back and lifted her chin, staring up at him, stone-faced. "You owe me a lot of things, Elijah. Namely, two years of my life back. But since you can't grant miracles, I'd like to know who the snitch is."

"I'd like to think those two years weren't entirely wasted."

"You can think whatever you want. I can't stop you."

A muscle ticked in his cheek as he looked away. "I wasn't the one who walked away in the end, if I remember correctly."

"You must not. Because you did your fair share of walking…" She frowned. "Every other month, you were 'out of town on business.' Or that's the excuse you used."

"You think it was something else…?"

"I know it was."

He stared back at her, his eyes narrowed. "You thought I was seeking out the comfort of another?"

"No. No, the one thing you've always been is loyal. But your loyalty has limits… Klaus came before anyone else. And I thought I could be okay with that. I _tried_ to be okay with that. But as soon as he snapped his fingers, you went running. Trying to make up for something that happened _centuries_ ago…" She shook her head. "You let him destroy everything he touched. You fed into his delusions of grandeur. No matter the cost. Just because those lives weren't taken by your directly doesn't mean your hands are clean."

"And I regret that lives were taken unnecessarily—"

"Do you? The man I knew, the man I _loved_ , understood that life was fleeting. He understood that for us, for humans, we only had so much time on this earth. We were never playthings to you. That was the only way I could justify being with you. Because when I looked at you, I never saw a monster. I saw a man. A _good_ man. But the more Klaus asked of you, and the more you gave in, that man… he wasn't who I thought he was. After a while, regret just became a way of life for you. And I couldn't stay there and watch someone I loved and respected degrade himself like that."

"No. Instead, you left me… To the whim of a man you consider mad and calculating and murderous."

"How was I supposed to compare to a millennium of history? He's your _brother_."

"And you were to be my _wife_." He stood from his desk and stared down at her, his brow furrowed and his mouth shaking as he pressed his lips flat. "For a time, you were my family, too. And I would have done _anything_ —"

"No. Not anything. I asked you to stay. I asked you not to run off to wherever he was and do whatever he wanted. But you left. You _always_ left."

"It was never that simple."

"It was." She shook her head. "You never believed in what he did. You were scared of what he would be like when he became a hybrid. When that werewolf half of him was _free_. Because you know who Klaus is at his core, and the idea of him having any more power guaranteed bloodshed."

"I wanted my brother to be _happy_. I wanted him to be relieved of the pain he'd carried since this curse was placed upon him. And I hoped that somehow, he would find peace."

"And you were willing to sacrifice yourself and every bit of happiness you ever had to ensure that." She stood from her own chair and stared up at him, defiant and strong. "Are you happy, Elijah? The world is about to collapse. It's going to end any second. Can you look back and say that everything you did, every day you lived, was _worth_ it?"

His gaze met hers and held, but no answer left him. Truthfully, he didn't know. He had many regrets in his life. He couldn't begin to count them all. And he'd carried the burden of them on his shoulders for so long that it was a wonder they hadn't collapsed under the weight. One shining example of that was standing in front of him. Abigail had been his everything once upon a time. He'd taken for granted what time they had, believing they would have so much more. But it seemed the weight of his history and his regret was too much for her to witness, and so she fled before she could watch his fall from grace in any more vivid detail.

"Mom?"

Blinking, Abby seemed to suddenly remember her son was in the room. She turned, cleared her throat, and put her hands to her hips. "Yes?"

"I think you should see this…" He nodded his chin toward the window. "Something weird is going on."

"Weird how?"

"Like half the townspeople have _torches_ weird."

"What…?" She crossed the room toward him, and Elijah followed.

As Jamie had said, it would seem that a good portion of the town was collecting together, and holding up torches in some grand display. _How curious.._.

Abby looked back at Elijah. "We've shared our side of this story. What's yours?"

He hesitated only a moment. "Jeremy Gilbert has been in contact with Kai Parker. He informed them that you and yours were acting strangely. I have an informant in Kai's coven. She couldn't say much, but she offered an address and said I'd find some answers there. Klaus' hybrids were aware that we wanted to speak to a Bennett. Your family always seems to have more information than most. They saw an opportunity in you and Jamie, so they took it. Kai must have arrived before we did and taken this Bonnie before we had a chance."

"Gilbert, that rat." Jamie ground his teeth. "I'll set him on fire myself."

Abby hummed, and then turned her gaze back out the window. "I need to tell my mother… She needs to know what's happening."

Elijah raised an eyebrow. "What will your mother have to offer?"

"If Kai does have Bonnie, then he might be able to wake her up. Damon was worried Bonnie would wipe us all out if she saw how we turned out. Imagine her first introduction to the new age supernatural is someone like _Kai_ …" She pointed to the window before walking to his desk and grabbing up the phone from its cradle. "I'll bet you whatever that is out there, Kai has his hand in it. If we don't do something, a lot of people are going to die."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Lucy looked down as her phone started buzzing in the pocket of her jeans. Digging it out, she saw an unfamiliar name, but thumbed the answer button anyway. "Hello….?"

" _Lucy!_ Thank god. I've been calling mama, but she wasn't answering. Are you okay?"

"Fine. We're at the boarding house. Little Gilbert's a rat. He's in the cellar until I get a chance to gut him. Where _are_ you?"

"It's a long story. Look, there's something going on in the middle of town. Hundreds of people and they've all got _torches_."

"Kai." Lucy rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache forming. "He has Bonnie. Apparently he's going to use Lydia and his heretics to wake her up."

"We can't let that happen."

"No kidding." Lucy snorted. "Kai is the _worst_ 'welcome back from the dead' ambassador around."

"Look. We're going to head down, see what we can do. Meet us there?"

Lucy paused. "You're seriously all right…?"

"No worse for wear, I promise."

"Okay. If you're sure. I'll meet you over there. You got a number we can call you at…?"

There was a pause and then some shuffling. "You got a pen?"

"Hold on." Lucy dug around until she found a pen and a scrap of paper. "Go ahead."

Abby rattled off a few numbers. "It's long distance, but I doubt you're worried about your cell phone bill at this point."

Lucy stared at the number a beat. "504… This is a New Orleans area code. Girl, who are you _with?_ Don't tell me you're tied up with that Mikaelson again. Last time you got tangled up with him, you married a politician."

"Very funny. We can talk about this later, all right? Just get the others and meet us at the town center."

"We're on our way. And Abbs…?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

"You, too."

Hanging up, Lucy pocketed her phone and made her way over to her aunt. She put a hand on her shoulder to grab her attention, and then tipped her head. Sheila caught the hint. They both looked to Braeden, who carefully stood from her seat on a table next to Derek. When he looked over at her, she half-smiled, patted his knee reassuringly, and then slipped away.

While the others were discussing how best to track down Bonnie and the heretics, Sheila, Lucy, and Braeden moved into another room.

Sheila waved her hands and mumbled an incantation to seal the room off from any prying ears.

"Abby called. She's okay."

"Thank God…" Sheila's shoulders slumped with relief.

"Where is she?" Braeden wondered.

"Honestly… I'm pretty sure she's with Elijah Mikaelson."

" _What?_ "

Lucy shrugged. "The point is that she said something hinky is happening in the middle of town. She thinks it's Kai. And given what's been said here, I agree. He's probably making a big show of bringing Bonnie back and he's got his whole coven, and whoever else wants to watch, huddled up in the middle of town."

Braeden nodded. "So, what's the plan?"

"We need to go meet her. I don't know who all you want to bring along…" She looked to Sheila.

"We need Damon. Scott and his pack, too. Scott might be able to help with Lydia."

"Stefan and Caroline have been helpful so far," Braeden added.

"The only ones I'm not hearing here are Tyler and Elena."

"Tyler isn't so bad. He knows what's at risk. But Elena has a blindspot and she's not exactly happy with everyone since her brother's been locked up."

Lucy leaned back against the table and crossed her arms loosely. "Alaric can help take anybody out. He's a trained hunter. He drinks too much and he's not exactly motivated, but put a gun in his hands, and he's good."

"So, what do we do?" Braeden looked between them. "Are we telling the whole group or going to everybody one at a time…?"

"We don't have time…" Sheila frowned. "We need to tell them what's going on and get down there before Kai wakes Bonnie up and sends this whole thing into a tailspin."

"Okay. Then let's do it."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

After the Bennetts informed them of the 'group meet' downtown, Alaric pulled out his weapons cache and everyone dug in for what they needed.

Elena, however, was pacing. "How do we know this isn't a trap?"

"Abby told us herself…" Lucy zipped up her leather jacket and raised an eyebrow. "Last I checked, _your_ family was a snitch, not mine."

Glaring, Elena turned to the others. "How do we know it was really Abby? Or that she wasn't saying it under duress! This could be an _ambush…_ "

"I know my cousin. It was her. And she wouldn't send us down there to get killed."

"This doesn't feel right…"

"Elena, it's okay to be scared." Caroline grabbed up a stake gun. "But we can't let this happen."

" _Let_ it happen?" She scoffed, and stabbed an accusing finger in Caroline's direction. "If it wasn't for you and Stefan waking up Damon and finding this stupid prophecy in the first place, none of this would be happening."

"Technically," Stiles said, "it would still be happening. Bonnie's powers were still calling everybody here. We just don't know what would have happened if she'd _stayed_ in the ground…" He waved a baseball bat around absently, nearly clocking himself in the head with it. "Considering she called them here in the first place, eventually she could've called them straight to her grave. At least this way, we know who and what we're dealing with."

"We can either sit around here debating on this, or we can do something about it." Derek checked the chamber on his gun, closed it, and tucked it into his belt. "The Bennetts have always been trustworthy. If they say we need to act on this, then we should."

"Tyler…?" Elena turned to look at him searchingly.

With a sigh, he walked toward her, a hand settling on her shoulder. "Things are moving fast, and we're all scared. We have no idea what's going to happen when we go out there. But we can't just wait around and see what the aftermath is. Kai's got Bonnie and the closest thing we have to a lead is Abby. We need to do this." His hand slid down her arm until his fingers reached hers and folded between them. "I'll be right there with you, all right?"

She stared at him a long moment and took a deep breath. "We stick together."

"Every second."

With a nod, she moved to the weapons trunk and dug around for something to use.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Across the room, Sarah was holding a stake gun in her lap. "You remember when we used to do normal things on a Friday night? Like karaoke?"

Matt snorted. "Feels like a lifetime ago."

"Yeah." Her mouth tipped down. "Hey, Matt, if this is really the end of it all…"

He turned to her, one gun strapped over his shoulder, and another on the table as he double checked his ammo. "What? You gonna declare your undying love for me, Salvatore?

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"No, no. I wanna hear this." He smiled. "Come on. I'll even start it for you… Matt Donovan, light of my life, best and most handsome friend I ever had—"

"Oh my _God_ …"

"—who I call at 3 am when my eyes are crossed from studying and my caffeine rush is dying. Who always picks up, even when he's got a 6 am shift, and who drives all the way out to Duke to cheer me up when I've had a bad week. Who would save my life in a heartbeat and throw himself out there, in the line of fire, to save me from any number of enemies. Who—"

She leaned forward then, and kissed him. Her hand slid behind his neck and pulled him forward, fingers running through his hair, as her mouth slanted over his smoothly.

Matt hummed against her lips. Dropping his gun aside, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, one hand burying at the nape of her neck. It took them a few minutes before they came up for air, and even then, he was still pressing small, lingering kisses to her mouth.

She smiled, and opened her eyes to look up at him. "You talk too much."

He grinned. "That right?"

"That's right."

"Must be nerves… The world's ending, you know."

"I heard." She slid a hand over his cheek. "You wanna watch it blow together?"

"Front row seats?"

She nodded.

"You got a deal."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

" _Finally_." Caroline shook her head. "I was starting to think those would never get together…"

Stefan glanced from Caroline to where Matt and Sarah were wrapped around each other. "You think they've got a chance?"

"Of course. I mean, for as long as we're still alive…" She smiled softly then. "But they make sense, you know? I mean, they've been best friends for years. They're always there for each other. And Matt, he's a good guy. He'll be good to her."

Stefan nodded. "And vice versa. Sarah's amazing. Smart, kind, funny…"

"She is." Caroline nodded. "I'm happy for them. I mean, I wish it wasn't happening when we don't know if we're going to live through the next few hours. Definitely could've said something earlier. Better late than never though, I guess."

Stefan stared at her a beat, and then another. He took a breath and tugged up the sleeves of his shirt. "Caroline, there's uh, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about for a while now. Uh…"

"Okay…" She looked up at him, half-smiling.

"I—"

"Has anybody seen Damon?"

Stefan turned at the sudden voice. Frowning, he scanned the room. Damon had been there when Sheila and Lucy had explained what was happening in the town square, but, now that Stefan thought about it, he hadn't seen Damon since.

Wincing, he looked back to Caroline. "Hold that thought…" He made his way out into the hall and raced downstairs to the cellar.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Let me guess, you're here to choke me with my own intestines…" Jeremy continued pacing from one end of the cellar to the other, looking like a caged animal, every muscle coiled and ready for attack.

Damon watched through the barred window of the cellar door. "You remind me of someone."

Jeremy snorted, but didn't answer.

"Back when I was _alive_ … that first time around, we tried to keep cordial with the rest of the town. We were all pretty scattered. Lots of space between us and the neighbors. But we'd go into the town center to trade goods and help each other out. Some of the nicer neighbors might bring a pie by sometime. And Bonnie, she liked to send food baskets out to anybody who was struggling. She was the kind of person that went out of her way to make sure that a complete stranger wasn't suffering."

"Is that supposed to make me feel bad?"

Ignoring him, Damon continued. "But there was one guy, real ornery type. He never accepted any of the baskets Bonnie made for him. Time and again, she'd drop a basket of freshly dug up carrots and celery and lettuce. He would leave it outside his doorstep, let it rot where it sat. Same thing with all the apples she'd bring him. And I'd see how hurt she looked, that this _asshole_ of an old man wouldn't just accept her kindness for what it was. I'd tell her not to do it, to forget about him. But every month, she'd make up another basket for him. I never understood why. Every time he left it outside, he was hurting her. It wasn't until later that I realized it didn't matter if he took it or not. Bonnie made a choice to be kind. To always offer help. And if he never chose to accept it, fine. That was his loss. But his fear and ignorance and hatred wasn't going to rub off on her."

Jeremy turned to look at him, brow furrowed.

"When the townspeople came for us, I expected to see him there. Front and center. I expected him to be waving a pitchfork and joining in. But he wasn't. He didn't join in on running us down, but he didn't help us either. He stayed in his house and he closed his curtains to it all. And I realized that there were different levels to evil then. The ones who act are no better or worse than the ones who stand idly by and let it happen."

The door to the cellar opened then and Damon made his way inside. "You're not a bystander, Jeremy. You're not Kai-levels of sociopath either. But you are like the townspeople. The ones who were willing to kill children because their fear ruled everything they did. Who told themselves it was okay, it was _necessary_ , to kill us in order to preserve themselves."

"So what, you're gonna kill me?" He scoffed. "As a stand-in for the townspeople?"

"No. No, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to _enlighten_ you."

Jeremy eyed him suspiciously. "What does that mean?"

"I want you to know what it was like to know that a mob of people were coming to kill my children. My wife. To know that when I put them on that cart, I knew I'd never see them again. That I wouldn't be able to protect them." Damon was across the room and in front of Jeremy in a flash, his hands pressed to either side of Jeremy's head. "Imagine, for just a second, what it was like to have three incredible children. Gifted and loving in every way. Imagine… knowing that if you don't send them away and sacrifice yourself, they won't live to see the next day. Imagine hearing them call for you, _cry_ for you…"

Jeremy shouted in pain and grabbed at Damon's wrists, but he couldn't release himself. His eyes suddenly grew a milky grey, and he was no longer in the cellar of the boarding house.

Rather, he was in a very old log house, where he was not in his own body, not thinking his own thoughts or feeling his own feelings, but instead he was Damon. He saw and felt and knew all that Damon did…

He was Damon when he first met Bonnie.

( _Damon plucked a purple flower from where it wound itself around the sticks she'd used to mark off her garden. He twisted it between his fingers and raised it up to inhale the sweet, soft fragrance._

 _"Can I help you?"_

 _He turned and smiled as he found a beautiful, perturbed woman staring back at him. "I believe you can."_

 _She raised an eyebrow. "I don't plan to if you keep stepping on my flowers."_

 _He chuckled under his breath and carefully climbed from her garden, walking toward her. "I am Damon."_

 _"Damon the flower thief, I see." She nodded to his hand._

 _"What? This? Would you believe I had this before I'd arrived here?"_

 _"I wouldn't."_

 _"Would you believe I was only borrowing it?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Would you believe it was a gift then? For you?"_

 _She reached out and plucked it from his fingers, tucking it behind her own ear. "Gift accepted. You can leave now." She walked past him toward her house, her black dress dragging along the grass._

 _"I offer my deepest sympathies, for the loss of your mother," he called after her._

 _Bonnie paused and turned back to him, brow furrowed. "You knew my mother…?"_

 _"I met her once, a very long time ago. You were a baby then. I wasn't much older myself. My mother and your mother were… friends, of a kind."_

 _"Oh?" Her eyes narrowed._

 _"It is a long story… If you have the time, I'd like to tell it."_

 _Bonnie hesitated a moment, but then nodded. "I suppose I could do that." She turned and walked toward her house, asking over her shoulder, "Are you new to town?"_

 _"Very."_

 _"Will you be staying?"_

 _"Just for a lifetime or two…"_ )

He witnessed his love for Bonnie.

( _She was laid out beside him on the bed, loose limbed and bare from head to toe. She stretched an arm out behind her head and hummed. "I still find you insufferable."_

 _"Insufferably irresistible?" He reached out and dragged a finger from her neck to her navel._

 _"Insufferably arrogant," she corrected._

 _Damon grinned. "And charming and handsome and delectable…"_

 _She snorted, but a smile was turning up the corner of her lips. "On occasion."_

 _"Hmm… I find you quite delectable, too." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and lower, to the top of her breast. Lower still, to press a stream of lingering kisses along her stomach. He scraped his teeth over her hip and slid his hand across her thigh, lifting it as he shuffled down the bed to lay between her legs._

 _Bonnie laughed, a light and happy sound. She reached down to run her fingers through his hair. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"_

 _"I say little that I don't mean." He nipped his way down her inner thigh._

 _"Damon…" She raised an eyebrow at him._

 _With a sigh, he turned his head, resting it against her leg as he looked up at her. "I meant what I said. Would you like me to repeat it?"_

 _"Only the important part."_

 _He smirked. "What important part would you be referring to…?" He climbed up her body, dropping kisses as he went. "The part where I said you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen…?"_

 _"I enjoyed that part, but that isn't it."_

 _"No? Perhaps the part where I likened your stubborn nature to that of a mule."_

 _She snorted. "Not untrue, but hardly what I favored."_

 _"Mmm." He paused, stomach to stomach and eye to eye with her. "I love you."_

 _"Yes," she whispered. "That was it."_

 _His mouth slanted over hers, fingers dancing over her cheek before brushing her hair back behind her ear and curling his palm behind the nape of her neck. "And you, Little Bird. What did you say in return?"_

 _Bonnie nipped at his bottom lip and lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist. "I love you, too."_ )

He was there was Damon's first child was born.

( _"One more push. I have him, Bonnie. Just one more push."_

 _"I can't. I can't," she sobbed. She was drowning in sweat, her skin flushed and fiery hot. Squatting down, she had her back against the footboard of their bed, her hands reached over her shoulders to hold herself up. Damon knelt in front of her, hands waiting to help bring their baby into the world._

 _"Look at me…"_

 _She opened tired, tearful eyes._

 _"You are the strongest person on the face of the earth. You can do this." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her damp brow. "I know it hurts. The sooner you push, the sooner he will be born and the pain can end."_

 _Gritting her teeth, she bared down, and let out a pained scream._

 _The baby came out slowly and, with Damon's help, his scream too could be heard. "There he is. You see… I knew you could do it."_

 _"Let me see him," she panted._

 _Damon held up their wiggling, squalling son, and Bonnie cried. "He's beautiful."_

 _"Of course he is. He is ours."_

 _She laughed, tears still spilling down her cheeks. Reaching out one tired hand, she pressed her fingers to her son's cheek. "You were worth every second of pain."_

 _Damon smiled. His heart was thundering in his chest, with pride and love and hope. He leaned forward and kissed Bonnie once, twice, a third time. And then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his son's head._

 _"We will call him Dysin," Bonnie said. "Dysin, son of Damon."_

 _"And Bonnie. He is as much yours as he is mine."_ )

Jeremy blinked, shaking his head, but another memory assaulted him. This time, a daughter. A little girl who couldn't be more than six years old.

( _"I did not do this, Papa." M'Kenna shook her head before she pointed a finger out toward the lake. "It was the fish."_

 _"The fish stole you off into the water in your new dress."_

 _She nodded, soaking wet from head to toe. "Yes."_

 _"Did they give any reason for it?"_

 _"They wanted to play."_

 _"Ahh…" He held a hand out to her._

 _Turning on her heel, M'Kenna took his hand and began to walk with him back to the house. "I said no, but they said I had to."_

 _"Oh, did they?"_

 _"They did." She started swinging their hands. "They said they would show me things. Things only fish should see."_

 _"And did they?"_

 _"They did!" She smiled up at him toothily. "Do you think that I could be a fish?"_

 _"Do you want to be one?"_

 _"Sometimes. But I would come back. To visit you and mama. And Neci, too."_

 _"What of Dysin?"_

 _Her nose wrinkled. "If I have to."_

 _He laughed. "I'm sure he would appreciate it."_

 _"Maybe."_

 _"If you wish to be a fish when you grow up, I'll support you."_

 _She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "You will?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _"I will be a good fish. I will swim faster than every other fish."_

 _"I would expect no less."_

 _"Will you visit me at the lake, papa?"_

 _"Every day."_

 _Coming to a stop, she pulled at his hand and tipped her head for him to come closer._

 _Smothering a smile, he knelt._

 _Leaning in, she whispered, "I will tell you all the fish secrets. But you cannot tell anyone else. You have to promise."_

 _Damon turned and pressed a kiss to her round cheek. "I promise to keep any and all secrets you share with me, Your Fishiest."_

 _M'Kenna giggled, and then she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, her dripping wet dress soaking him in the process._

 _With a sigh, Damon lifted her up into his arms and continued the trek home, all the while listening to M'Kenna tell him all her fishy secrets._ )

The same field now, but he stood beneath a tree, peering up at his son.

( _"Papa! Papa, look at how high I am!" Dysin bounced, the tree moving with him. He was as high as he could get, gripping a branch on either side of him._

 _"Can you touch the clouds?" Damon called in return._

 _He stretched one hand as high as he could. With a disgruntled frown, he said, "Not yet."_

 _"One day then."_

 _"Do you think?" Dysin looked hopeful._

 _"I imagine if you want the clouds, they will gladly come to you some day."_

 _"I hope so." Dysin moved to the end of the branch then and leapt off, his arms outstretched. Rather than falling quickly though, he simply floated downward, and landed atop his father's shoulders. He tucked his hands under Damon's chin and wiggled side to side. "I will fly to the stars one day."_

 _"Will you bring me one?"_

 _Dysin shook his head. "You cannot steal the stars. We need them."_

 _"No? What can I steal then?"_

 _He giggled. "You can steal mama."_

 _"Oh? And who am I stealing her from?"_

 _"Me!"_

 _"Really. Well, I promise to share her then."_

 _"Mama!" Dysin bounced, waving a hand at Bonnie, where she knelt in her garden, tending to the vegetables. "Papa wants to steal you!"_

 _"Does he?" She looked up with a smile and brushed her hair back with her wrist. "Let us see him try."_

 _Damon grinned at her. "I accept your challenge, witch."_ )

The grassy hills of a far-back time faded away, and in its place was a dark cave with rocky dirt walls.

( _Damon had to crawl on his knees to find her, too tall to comfortably walk within the cave's tunnels. "Neci…?"_

 _"Stop! Stay back! I don't want to burn you."_

 _"You couldn't if you tried." Damon finally came upon her small figure, sitting on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest, charred holes littering her dress. "Is that why you ran away?"_

 _"I know not why it happened. I did not_ mean _to! I was just so…" She clenched her teeth and her eyes lit up, burning a bright orange. "Oh, it is happening again…" She hiccuped on a cry._

 _"Calm down, Little One." He moved to sit beside her. "You were angry. You haven't learned to control it yet, but you will."_

 _"I don't want it. Take it away, papa. I don't want this."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Because…" Her mouth trembled. "Fire hurts people."_

 _"Only if people are foolish."_

 _Neci turned her head to look up at him, her brow furrowed._

 _"Fire can hurt when it isn't used properly. When foolish people put their foolish hands into it. But it can just as soon heat your hearth and warm your hands. It keeps the winter at bay each year. It cooks our food for us each day. It brightens our home each night. Fire is not an enemy, Neci. Not if you wield it right."_

 _"What if I cannot? What if I hurt someone?"_

 _"Then you make amends and you learn from it."_

 _"You make it sound simple." She dropped her chin to her knees and frowned. "I could have hurt M'Kenna or Dysin. The fire moved with me but I did not know what to do. I tried to run and it followed. It burned the grass. It could have burned them, too."_

 _"When you no longer fear it, you will have better control of what it does. You will choose if it burns nothing or everything."_

 _"How do I do that? How do I stop fearing it?"_

 _"With help." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. "I will teach you."_

 _Letting out a heavy sigh, she burrowed her face against his side. "Are they afraid of me?" she whispered._

 _"Who? Dysin and M'Kenna? Of course not. They worry for you."_

 _"I don't want them to fear me. I don't want anyone to fear me."_

 _Damon's heart squeezed. "We cannot control how others feel about us. They fear what they don't know. What they can't do. Their fear does not make you any more or less of a person. You are who you are. Just as they are. If their fear keeps them from knowing who you truly are, that is their loss."_

 _Neci sighed. "Do they fear you, papa?"_

 _"They do."_

 _She paused for a moment, and then asked, "Does it bother you?"_

 _"Sometimes fear is a good thing. The smart ones stay away from what they fear."_

 _Her brow wrinkled then. "You want them to stay away?"_

 _"If I could build a wall between you and everything that could ever hurt you, I would."_

 _"Do you think they would? Hurt us?"_

 _"I would rather never find out."_ )

The cave fell away, and in its place was that old log house of before.

( _It was late. Damon was in that place between sleep and wakefulness. Worry had kept him up. Bonnie had been tossing and turning, a fever burning her skin, her stomach twisted up in knots. Every time she moved, he woke. Dabbing her forehead with cool water and tucking her blankets in tight around her._

 _It wasn't Bonnie's tossing that woke him now, however. No. There was a noise. A knocking. If it could be called that. It was more like a_ banging _. Climbing from bed, he pulled on his trousers and made his way down the hall. He pulled the door open to find Rianne on the other side, panting, a hand pressed to her chest. "They are coming, p-please. You mus- must listen…"_

 _Damon frowned, and ushered her inside. "Who is coming?"_

 _"I heard them speaking to my husband. They are coming for Bonnie and the children. Please." She grabbed at his arm. "You must wake them. You must run!"_

 _"Calm down. Explain what you heard."_

 _"It was Zarius. He fears Neci's fire. He convinced the others that Neci was a threat. That she would destroy all of us at will. He's been spitting his rhetoric for some time, but he has finally convinced them that something must be done."_

 _"What is happening…?" Bonnie moved down the hall, leaning a shoulder against the wall to keep herself up right. "Rianne, what are you doing here so late?"_

 _"I am so sorry. I ran as quickly as I could. But they are coming. There is only so much time. You must flee!" Rianne looked between them. "Take the children, go as far as you can."_

 _"Damon…" Bonnie looked to him worriedly._

 _Damon felt his heart squeeze. "Zarius has convinced the town we are a threat and aims to kill us."_

 _Bonnie's hand reached for her throat while her eyes widened in fear and hurt. "All of them?"_

 _Rianne's gaze fell. "Many of them."_

 _Damon swallowed down his anger. "Rianne, help Bonnie dress. She has been ill."_

 _"They poisoned her. Zarius told Efrem that they poisoned a wine and sent it to you in the guise of a gift. It was an attempt on your life, but when it only seemed to weaken you, they chose another method." She looked between them. "They won't allow any of you to live. They fear your magic too much."_

 _Damon motioned her down the hall. "Thank you, Rianne. I will wake the children. Please, help Bonnie dress."_

 _"Yes, of course."_

 _Damon waited until they were out of sight, and then took a moment. He could feel fire burning up inside of him and thrust an arm out, sending a burst of it toward the grate. The logs inside lit up, but the fire was too much. It turned them to ash in a matter of seconds. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. But fear and anger and panic were choking him._

 _"Papa?"_

 _He turned abruptly to find Dysin looking up at him, rubbing a fist against his eye as he yawned. "I heard voices."_

 _Swallowing, he nodded. "Dysin, wake up your sisters. Get dressed and grab what you can. Fill a sack with your clothes."_

 _"But why? It is late. We—"_

 _"Listen to me…" Damon moved to him and took his small shoulders into his hands. "I need you to act quickly. Wake Neci and M'Kenna. Tell them to pack as well."_

 _Dysin stared up at him a moment, and then nodded. He started for his room, but paused, and looked back. "Can I bring my books?"_

 _"As many as you can carry? We won't be returning here."_

 _"But… this is our home."_

 _"We will make a new home. Now go."_

 _Dysin hesitated, but eventually turned and ran down the hall._

 _Damon started moving around the room. He grabbed Bonnie's grimoire and a few of her herbs. He grabbed a sack and filled it with as much food as he could, everything that would fit and whatever would last on their trip. He grabbed the children's coats and mittens for their hands. It wasn't cold yet, but the nights could bite. He hesitated to put them inside the sack, however. Staring down at them, at how tiny they were, he took a moment._

 _Bonnie had knit these herself. Each year, she would sit in the grass and knit a new pair of mittens and a scarf for them. Tiny hands becoming bigger and bigger as time went on. And the townspeople would end that. They would come for the children whose hands weren't but half the size of his own, strike them down where they stood, and pat themselves on the back for their actions._

 _He had brought these children into the world. They had been so tiny, so beautiful, when they were born, screaming as loud as their small lungs would let them. M'Kenna had been the quietest; she was always content so long as someone was holding her. Neci was the loudest; no matter what she was doing, she wanted her voice heard. And Dysin was the easiest to distract, so curious about the world around him. But the townspeople wouldn't care for any of that. To them, they were a threat. Too powerful. Were they to become an enemy, there would be no stopping them. Better to destroy them now._

 _Helplessness swamped him, overwhelming and deep. More than the anger, the rage at what was happening, was the fear. The absolute terror that his whole family would be sacrificed to other people's ignorance. His eyes stung with the knowledge that people would die, and it was very likely that at least one of his own would be laid to rest in earth this night._ )

Still home, but outside now, panic building.

( _The cart was waiting. Rianne was sitting at the front, holding the reins to the horses. Dysin was helping to carry his and Neci's things. He loaded them into the back and then went back for M'Kenna's._

 _Bonnie was kneeling in front of the girls, buttoning their coats._

 _"You must be brave. I know you are scared." She leaned up and pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks, damp with tears. "But you must stay quiet. You will hide under the blanket and you will not peek out for anything. You will wait until Rianne tells you that it is safe."_

 _"Why won't you come with us?" M'Kenna looked from her mother to her father. "You have to come with us!"_

 _"M'Kenna, please. We need you to be safe."_

 _"Then come! If we have to run, we run together." Her mouth trembled. "Please do not send us away. Please, mama."_

 _"That's enough, Ken. They are trying to protect us." Dysin tossed the last bag onto the cart and returned to his sister's side, taking her hand and squeezing. "They will come later, when they know it is safe. Won't you?" So very serious, that was Dysin. He looked to his father for reassurance._

 _"As soon as we are able, we will reunite."_

 _"What if you are not able?" M'Kenna shook her head. "They are dangerous, you said so yourself. If they hurt you…" She looked between them. "I care not for bravery. Not mine or yours. Run away! Please! We need not fight them. We only need each other. We will run forever if we must."_

 _Bonnie cupped M'Kenna's face and wiped her thumbs over her cheeks. "Listen to me, my darling. I know you are afraid. I am afraid, too. But I must do this."_

 _M'Kenna crumbled into tears, defeated. Bonnie pulled her in for a hug, running a hand over her hair and shushing her gently._

 _Dysin rubbed her back and raised his eyes to meet his father's. "I will protect them."_

 _Damon sighed. He reached for his son and brought him forward. "And they will protect you." Hugging him, he pressed a kiss to the top of Dysin's head. And then he lifted him up and placed him on the cart._

 _Bonnie stepped forward then, cradling a still crying M'Kenna in her arms. She placed her on the cart next to Dysin, who wrapped an arm around his sister and let her cry on his shoulder._

 _Neci was next. But she grabbed onto Damon's hand and pulled. "I don't want to go. Papa, please! I can stay. I will fight them with you!"_

 _"Get in the carriage now, Neci." He tried to nudge her closer to the cart, but she stubbornly refused to be moved._

 _"But it's me they want. Me that they fear! I am their monster."_

 _"No!" Damon knelt and caught her by her small, shaking shoulders. "You are no monster. Do you understand me?"_

 _"What if they're right? What if fire only destroys?"_

 _He shook his head, and brought her head forward so he could press a kiss to the top of her springy, black hair. "They fear you because they're not you. One day, they will want for abilities like yours. They will pray and beg to be as powerful as you. And we will take pity on them, because the strong protect the weak. Today is not that day. But I pray you will see it, and you will show mercy where I cannot."_

 _Neci's tears spilled down her cheeks. "Come with us… Please, Papa. Please!"_

 _Damon sighed. He plucked Neci up and placed her inside the back of the carriage, alongside her brother and her sister._

 _Bonnie was kissing their cheeks and their foreheads, their hair and their hands, everywhere that she could reach. "I love you. I love you, my darlings." With a strangled cry, she stepped back, and leaned into Damon's side, a hand pressed against her mouth, tears trickling down her face._

 _Damon looked at each of his children, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Whatever they tell you, whatever happens, you're good. You're everything good in the world."_

 _Neci reached for him, her hand outstretched._

 _But the carriage lurched forward and began to pull away._

 _"Papa! PAPA!"_ )

Jeremy's gaze blurred with tears as his daughter's — _Damon's daughter's—_ continued to scream for him. It echoed in his ears before it fell away, and he was running through the woods.

( _Frustration and fear welled up inside him. He couldn't find Bonnie. They'd been separated at some point. He could feel her nearby, her fear and anger, mixed in with the pain of her twisting stomach and her overheated skin. The sickness was still burning its way through her, weakening her. But she pushed on._

 _His hands were dripping with blood. He'd torn apart so many of them. Leaving body parts and organs like a trail of bread crumbs for them to follow. If he could just get them to focus on him, to follow him instead of her, maybe she would have a chance. But no matter how many he killed, no matter how many bodies lay in his wake, they had their focus locked on Bonnie. She was the source, the mother of magic, and if they killed her, no more could come from her._

 _Grinding his teeth, Damon ran through the woods, jumping over fallen trees, racing toward where he could feel her. Distantly, he could still feel the pain of his children, their worry that their parents were lost to them, mixed with the fear that the townspeople would catch up to them and slaughter them where they lay._

 _The trees opened up to a clearing. He could see a crowd forming. Fearful, ignorant humans armed with swords and pitchforks, turning in circles, looking every which way for where their enemy might lie._

 _Damon stepped out to greet them. He could see the sheer terror that swamped them as they saw him. Covered in the blood of their brethren, long teeth on display, black scales running up and down the sides of his face, cracked open to reveal the fire that burned underneath._

 _"I have asked myself, more times than I can count, what you deserve… Pity, mercy, absolute destruction. And if I'm being honest, I lean more toward the last." He raced forward and grabbed on to the nearest man, pulling him back by his neck. Damon dug his fingertips in and blood scored down the man's throat as he cried out. "I want you to know, I take no glee out of your deaths. Killing you gives me no joy. More, it's a means to an end." He squeezed until the man's head popped right off his shoulders and rolled to the ground. "You look at me, a demon, and you see chaos and death. But I want you to remember that up until this very moment, I never offered that to you. I am, first and foremost, a husband and a father. It was you who made me your enemy. You who asked for death. You who came for my family in the middle of the night, seeking glory and vengeance. So if you see the devil in my eyes, know this… He came because you called."_

 _Damon ran forward, relieving two men of their hearts, tore out the throat of a third and fourth man with his teeth, relieved a fifth of his intestines, and then used those same intestines to choke the sixth, and last, man._

 _That was how Zarius found him. Bodies laid out all around while a man slowly choked to death as he knelt on the ground._

 _Damon's advantage disappeared, however, when Zarius' son dragged Bonnie forward, and pressed a blade to her throat._

 _Her dress was torn in various places, and her hair hung in choppy hunks around her face, clearly sheared off as a way to demean her._

 _"Damon," she whispered. "Go. Please. Go to our children."_

 _"Quiet, witch," Zarius snarled at her, before motioning his own knife at Damon. "Release him."_

 _Damon stared at him a beat and then pulled either end of the intestines just hard enough that they crushed the man's neck. Releasing him then, Damon wiped his hands off on his shirt and stepped forward. "I know it isn't in your nature, but try to think this through, Zarius… If you kill her, I will kill you and your son, slowly and painfully."_

 _"Of that I have no doubt,_ demon _."_

 _"You say that like it's an insult, but I think it's benefited me quite obviously." He waved his hands around the clearing._

 _"The evil that resides in you has no equal, I am certain. Still, it was not you that set us on this path. Not entirely. But your spawn is something else. Something we cannot allow to continue." Zarius shook his head. "Neci and her fire will burn us all. We have no future if she continues."_

 _"Neci is not the enemy. She is a child. One raised in love. She has no interest in destruction. Me, on the other hand…" He eyed Zarius, his mouth hitching up. "I have a vengeful streak."_

 _"Which is why we cannot allow you or yours to live." Zarius motioned to his son, who pressed the knife a little harder against Bonnie's neck, producing a sliver of blood._

 _"Stop!" Damon threw a hand out. "Let her go. She is innocent in this. She has never once harmed any of you."_

 _Her lips moved, forming his name, but no sound left her._

 _"Please… Take me in her stead. Let them go. They will never return here, never put you and yours in danger."_

 _"You would sacrifice yourself for their well-being?" Zarius watched him. "Does the witch mean so much to you?"_

 _Damon bared his teeth. "Do we have an accord or not?"_

 _Zarius nodded to someone past Damon's shoulder, and soon he had three men at his back, grabbing at his arms and forcing him to his knees. While he had the ability to shake them off, any move he made could cause Bonnie harm. He could not afford that._

 _They pushed him down further, until he was laid out on the ground._

 _Zarius' son dragged Bonnie forward, while Zarius knelt at Damon's shoulder. "I wonder, Damon, do you bleed like us? When you die, will your spirit fly to the heavens or sink down to the pits of hell?"_

 _"I imagine it will linger a while, see if it might haunt you in the few years you have left."_

 _Zarius' lip curled, and then he turned. He grabbed Bonnie's arm and pulled her down to kneel at Damon's side._

 _Damon could feel the pain welling up inside her. Her magic was struggling to keep her alive as the poison ate away at her. But if she could get away, she could heal. He knew she could. She would not die, not like this._

 _Zarius pressed a knife into Bonnie's hand and gripped tight to her wrist to keep her from pulling away._

 _"Damon, stop this. Please!" She stared down at him, tears spilling from her eyes. "Run…" she begged._

 _"I won't leave you." He stared up at her, his eyes wide and clear. "Not ever."_

 _Zarius brought Bonnie's hand to hover over Damon's chest, atop where his heart lay. He pressed down, forcing her hand to slide the knife through Damon's skin. Blood began to pool around the blade._

 _Bonnie cried out and turned her eyes away._

 _"Look at me…"_

 _Her gaze rose to meet his._

 _"It's okay."_

 _"No, no it isn't."_

 _Zarius guided Bonnie's hand, cutting deeper, carving and hacking._

 _Damon could feel every movement, could feel the blade cutting through skin and muscle. He could taste blood in his mouth, feel it climbing up his throat. It was soaking through his shirt and running down either side of his chest._

 _"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." That was all Bonnie said, over and over._

 _Zarius pried the gash in his chest wider, giving them access to his heart. He took Bonnie's hand once more and held the knife against an aorta._

 _"I can't, I can't do this. Please stop. Please!" Bonnie shook her head, tears trembling down her cheeks._

 _Damon pulled a hand free from where it was pressed to the ground and reached for her. He brushed his fingers across her cheek and her hair. "_ _You are the strongest person on the face of the earth. You can do this." His thumb swiped a tear away. "I know it hurts. The sooner you push, the sooner the pain can end."_

 _She stared down at him, searchingly, and he nodded. Bonnie took a deep breath and cut the rest of the way through, severing his heart from his body._

 _Zarius pulled it out from his chest, took the blade from Bonnie's hand and replaced it with Damon's heart._

 _He watched her as she cried, his blood seeping through her fingers. She crumbled in front of him. He told himself that it was enough. That he did what he could. That his children, scared as they were, would survive. They would carry on without him. And that was enough. He stared at his wife, and was glad that she would be the last thing he saw._

 _As he died, Bonnie dropped his heart atop his chest, and was pulled away by Zarius. And the earth moved in answer. It opened itself beneath Damon and swallowed him down. Dirt and grass crawled atop Damon's body and dragged him deeper and deeper into the ground. His heart fell back into the hole in his chest, untethered to him, but present all the same. Above him, a tree rose from the ground, gnarled and black. The roots stabbed their way into the ground and into Damon's body, drawing his blood into the core of the tree, and then feeding it back into his body, tying them to each other._ )

Jeremy gasped as he came back to the present, to the cellar, and to Damon standing before him. The feelings Damon had experienced, the love he had for his children and his wife. The fear and terror of knowing that others would try to take them and having to send them away. The sorrow and forgiveness he'd known when Bonnie had to carve his heart from him. The hope that his children would live long, good lives. It was all still there. Present in his mind. Shaking him to his core.

"Why?" he croaked out, rubbing a hand over his chest, where no open cut showed what had been taken, what he had felt being cut from him.

"It's easy to see things from your own perspective. To make excuses for your actions because it benefited you or people you care about. But you can't make choices that affect everyone without knowing what brought you to this point. The vampire hunters were born of a witch, one of M'Kenna's line. You're human in a lot of ways, but you're magical, too. You're of _my_ blood. The humans that hunted me down, the ones you emulate today, they would have put you in the ground just like me. You are _other_. Whether you want to be or not. So, you can carry your hatred as deep as you want. But my history is your history. And now you'll never forget it."

Damon turned then and walked out the door, passing Stefan as he went. "Is everybody ready? I have a wife to see and a world to save."

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _okay, a few things…_

 **1.** _i know i said that bonnie would be in this chapter. unfortunately, in the editing process, this chapter blew up. hence, it's over 10k+. which, for some of you, that's probably awesome. i considered cutting it in half, but that would mean yet another chapter before we reached bonnie. because the next chapter is primarily bonnie/lydia/malia focused. everything that was supposed to be in this chapter just got shoved over there. it reads better that way, but also i just didn't want to cut this one down. i wanted to get more of damon/bonnie and damon+kids in this chapter._

 **2.** _a lot of you wanted jeremy to get his. i agree. the things is, there's been a theme here. the line between forgiveness and vengeance. for the most part, damon has fallen on vengeance, for good reason. and it's not until he realizes that his mother is pushing that on bonnie and that rhetoric will negatively impact her that he starts to change his view on things. he was already walking a path of wanting to help instead of harm in terms of liking certain supernatural people, like the bennetts and malia, but it isn't until his mom basically says she needs bonnie to be the personification of revenge that he really sees that he needs to change his own behaviour, too. we have already seen that something he truly values about bonnie is her ability to love and forgive and see goodness in others. if she becomes like him, like his mom wants, she loses herself. that doesn't mean he won't be fully ready to fight a war against kai and his people. but it does mean he stops to think things through before acting._

 _so in this, he forces jeremy to see what he went through. to feel what he felt. to know exactly what it was like to be him, a father and a husband, and have it all torn away because of the fear and ignorance of humans. this forces jeremy to look at his own actions, to carry the same weight that damon has, and really see it through his eyes. that said, this does not guarantee that he or anyone will live through the coming battle._

 **3.** _lastly, i know this chapter was late. i had a long week at work and school and i was just dead on my feet. i tried editing last night, but i just couldn't focus, so i put it off until today and i've literally spent most of my sunday trying to get this all in order. i've still got homework to do after this. not looking forward to that… that said, i am still trying to get things out every two days, but be patient if it takes three. we're getting closer and closer to the resolution of this story, and then i'm hoping to put my focus on 'til eternity.'_

 _thank you all so, so much for reading. please, try to leave a review. they're a huge encouragement!_

 _thanks,_  
 **\- Lee | Fina**


	12. good

**chapter rating** : high teen  
 **warnings** : violence, gore, death, murder  
 **word count** : 8,180

* * *

 **xii.**

"Listen, before you try to attack, teeth first…" Kai wagged his finger at Malia. "That coyote tail's been snipped, at least for a little while. You're as human as last night's dinner."

Malia's lip curled as she glared up at him.

"Not a talker, huh? That's fine. I can talk enough for both of us. _Now!_ " He rubbed his hands together and turned to Lydia. "It's time for you and your voodoo to play Telephone. Let's go."

Lydia slowly pushed herself up from the floor, using the wall to stand.

Malia stood with her, and reached out to band an arm around her waist.

"You coming too, Kitty Cat?" Kai raised an eyebrow.

"If Lydia's going, I'm going." Malia lifted her chin.

"More the merrier." He grinned as he motioned for them to walk down the long hallway. "Downstairs. Everyone's waiting on the main floor."

"Everyone?" Malia looked back at him as she helped Lydia walk.

"Yeah, you get to meet my coven. I made it all on my own… All right, so it was a little by force. See, the vampire that turned me, you might know her son. Stefan? Well, she had her own little group of heretics. Siphons she turned. She was playing mom to their wacky little family. Anyhoo, prison world this and mass murder that, we both got out, turned up here. After Stefan had to gank mommy dearest, they needed someone to take over, and I needed people to rule, since my own coven were a bag of dicks that I had to murder violently… So, here we are."

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a small group of people collected together. They didn't look too happy to be involved in this. In fact, they looked just as wary of Kai as Malia was.

"All right, this is Valerie, Mary-Louise, Nora, and Beau." He pointed to each as he named them off. "They'll be your friendly, neighborhood witch resurrecters tonight."

Nora frowned. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

Mary Louise knocked her shoulder against Nora's to shush her.

She glared back. " _No_." To Kai, she said, "How sure are you this is even _doable?_ "

"No reward without a little risk. Besides, we have plenty of witches to work with." He smirked. "Mama's coming home, and she's gonna rain _doom_ all over this cesspool."

"How is that at all productive?" Nora shook her head. "You realize we _live_ in this cesspool, right? If she wakes up angry, she might destroy all of us with it!"

"Where's the gratitude in that?"

"She's right," Malia piped up. "Damon said that Bonnie's not going to like what she sees." She looked to Kai. "And if you're anything like what Stefan says, she's not going to like _you_ one bit."

"Thanks for the input, but you don't get a group vote here."

"I want to hear what she has to say."

Kai blinked, and then looked back to the group. "What was that?" He cupped a hand behind his ear. "Speak up from the back."

Valerie shifted on her feet. Beau shook his head, but she set her chin stubbornly. "I said, I want to hear what she has to say."

"Is that right…?" Kai's eyes narrowed, and his smile became sharp.

"I saw what Damon did in the Grill. I've never seen anyone that powerful. And if this witch is even _more_ powerful than him, shouldn't we try to gather as many facts as we can?"

Malia shared a look with Lydia.

"The prophecy says she's coming to judge us, doesn't it?" Mary Louise looked around at everyone worriedly. "How do we know we aren't resurrecting her only to have her send us off to another prison world?"

"Or worse," Nora muttered darkly.

"The prophecy has been translated a few hundred times." Kai scoffed. "Who knows what it really says, and who cares?"

" _I care_." Valerie stepped forward. "I spent more than a century locked over there. I don't want to wake up someone else who might send us _back_."

"Blah, blah, _blah_." Kai rolled his eyes. "What kind of apocalypse has a _trial?_ She's the mother of magic, meaning she made _all_ of us. Mass murderers included. I hardly think she's going to slap us on the wrist and send us to bed without dinner."

"No. She'll just wipe out the entire state, with us in it," Malia said.

"You see!" Nora pointed to her and then glared at Kai. "God, if it isn't Lily keeping us from having any fun, it's you trying to bring on the end of the world. Is there no _middle_ ground?"

As the group descended into bickering, Malia eyed the door they stood next to. What were the chances she could get Lydia out and somewhere safe? How far away were they from anyone they knew? Was her pack nearby? Would she even be able to call for help without her abilities? Hand jittering at her side, she glanced at the heretics and then back to the door. Just as she reached for the handle, a hand slammed against the door.

"Ah, ah, ah…" Kai stared down at her. "No outside play until you raise the dead."

Clenching her teeth, Malia glared up at him. "Why should we help you?"

"Catch up, Princess. If you don't, I'll kill you. And your little friend, too."

She shook her head. "This isn't going to work. You don't even know how to wake her up."

"Well, see, that's where Lydia here comes in…" He turned calculating eyes on Lydia. "I've been doing my research on banshees and I don't think you've even scratched the surface on what you can do… But we'll find out."

Lydia pressed her lips flat and glanced at Malia, who squeezed her reassuringly.

"Now!" Turning on his heel, Kai faced the heretics once more. "Anybody who wants to leave, can. But remember, I'll take it personally…"

They looked at each other, unsure, and then Nora sighed. Rolling her eyes, she said, "Whatever. Let's just get this over with." She marched off toward the parlor then, heels clicking as she went.

Mary Louise looked back at them, frowning, and then chased after her.

With a huff of a sigh, Valerie shook her head and followed them out.

Beau smoothed his hands down his jacket. He stared at Malia and Lydia a moment, but then nodded once to Kai and calmly walked off to the parlor.

"Great. Glad we're all on the same page." Kai turned to grin back at Malia and Lydia. "Ready?"

 _No, not at all_. But they didn't have a choice, did they?

* * *

 **...**

* * *

In the center of the parlor, a body lay sprawled atop the table. Hands stacked on her stomach, Bonnie was still just as ethereal as Lydia remembered.

With effort, Lydia pushed herself upright so she wasn't leaning on Malia, and grabbed onto the edge of the table at Bonnie's shoulder. She could feel that wave of energy coming off her, fluctuating from cold to warm, death to sleep.

When she looked up, M'Kenna stood on Bonnie's other side, gazing down at her mother with a mix of wistful sorrow. Eventually, she raised her eyes to meet Lydia.

It was strange, when M'Kenna spoke, her words were in a language Lydia couldn't understand, but somehow she did. The words were unfamiliar, but her mind still understood them.

"He will make you wake her. You have no choice in this. She will not be angry with you." M'Kenna's gaze wandered to Kai. "He will try to manipulate her for his gain. To play on her sorrow, her grief. You cannot let him."

 _How?_ she wanted to ask, but she couldn't speak her, not where she could be heard.

As if she heard, M'Kenna looked to Lydia once more. "You must show her that there is good in this world. Show her that Kai does not represent you." She floated around her mother to stand at Lydia's side. Against her ear, she said, "You will know when the time is right. You must listen, Lydia." Her hands curled around Lydia's shoulders. "Hear them."

"Who?" she whispered.

"Who what?" Kai appeared next to her, peering down at her curiously. "Are you talking with ghosts again?" He tisked. "Don't waste your energy. We're gonna need it."

M'Kenna hissed at Kai, but it would seem that when Lydia wasn't trying to bring her into view, she was still just as invisible as any spirit.

Unaware, Kai flicked his fingers toward Bonnie. "So? What do we need…? Blood of the virgin? Human sacrifice? Eye of newt?"

"Tell him you must connect with her spirit." M'Kenna circled around to the other side again.

Lydia glanced at her, and then turned her attention to Kai. "I have to connect with her spirit before you do anything."

"Fine. You need wi-fi for that, because we're fresh out…"

"Come, Little One. Stand here." M'Kenna pointed to above Bonnie's head. "Place your hands on her temples, here and here."

Lydia followed her direction and raised her shaking hands, pressing the tips of her fingers to Bonnie's temples. Bonnie's skin was cool to the touch and Lydia felt a rush of rippling energy rush through her. Her breath caught and she gave a full body shudder.

"What?" Kai, now sitting on the edge of the table, frowned at Lydia. "Are you getting a signal or what?"

Lydia shushed him, and turned to M'Kenna.

"Open yourself, Lydia…" She reached forward and pressed a finger to the center of Lydia's forehead. "Let her in."

Lydia swallowed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. But as much as she could feel Bonnie's energy, she still felt distant from it. It was there, but out of reach.

"Let down your walls…" M'Kenna told her. "You have hidden yourself, barricaded your mind from all that you fear, all you are, but you cannot do this. You are a banshee. Born of Riyella, first of her kind. Her blood runs through your veins, passed down through the generations. Her power is yours, and yours is hers."

Lydia listened to M'Kenna's soothing voice as it wove itself deep into her mind.

"You are of my brother's line, Lydia. The keen of thought. Curious and eager to learn, to grow. Do not close yourself to this knowledge. Let it become yours. Let… it… _in_ …"

She could hear her heart, hammering in her ears. Feel her blood, rushing through her body. Her fingertips began to warm and her skin felt like it was it was crawling, energy rippling across her, _through_ her. And then, she opened her eyes.

Lydia wasn't standing in the parlor of Kai's house any longer. No, instead she stood in the center of the woods. Night had fallen and the tall trees were swaying under a heavy wind. She heard noises then, twigs cracking under the weight of heavy feet. Lydia turned abruptly, hair swinging around her. In the distance, she spotted two figures dragging a third.

Frowning, she moved toward it, squinting through the dark. She brushed branches out of her way and snuck around the tall, wide trunks of trees.

Three more men appeared, holding torches to light the way, light spilling across the forest floor.

They walked past Lydia, never casting an eye in her direction. The two men were dragging a woman by her arms. Her head hung down, hair falling in uneven hunks around her face. Her shoulders shook as she cried, and her legs dragged behind her, scraping against dirt and rocks and fallen trees. She was barefoot, mud caking her dress and her skin. A trail was left behind her, and Lydia stepped out to follow.

The walk felt like it went on forever. Eventually, the trail she was following became tainted with blood. The woman's feet had broken open, twigs and rocks scraping at her skin. The ends of her dress were tattered from dragging underneath her, and her legs were torn to ribbons.

When they came to a stop, there was a hole already dug. They threw her down into it and circled around her, looming and staring.

Lydia kept her distance, arms wrapped around herself, watching. It was clear that she was just a witness here; they couldn't see or hear her. Instead, she was watching history play out in vivid color.

Bonnie turned herself over onto her back and looked up at them, her face streaked with dirt and blood and tear tracks. Her hair fell back to reveal angry green eyes and gritted white teeth.

"You think this will save you? You think what you did this night will keep you and yours safe?" The wind began to pick up around them, pulsing through the trees, kicking up leaves and rustling the bushes. Birds began to sing, the crows loudest of all.

"Enough!" Zarius shouted. "Your trickery will die here in the grave with you, and your foul children will be hunted to the end of the earth and buried in pieces so they may never find peace."

"My children… will grow and love and have families of their own. They will spread across the world and share their influence and their power with those who deserve it. They will _rule_ this plane with a righteous fury, and when the last of your kind sees its end, they will curse your name for bringing this defeat upon them."

Zarius raised his axe up high in the air. "No prophecy you speak shall come to fruition!"

"Not prophecy, a _promise_. I curse you, Zarius. I curse this world and all who inhabit it. One day, my blood will rise and yours will pay for the sins it has offered this night."

Zarius' son looked to his father worriedly.

"Seek no truth in a serpent tongue. She shared her bed with a demon, her children are born of his seed. She has no true power here. With her death, her witchcraft will know no more."

Bonnie fell back into her grave and laughed, deep and loud, even as tears spilled down from her eyes. "I have seen the kindest souls in this world and they were born of my body. My magic lives in them, and you will never lay eyes on their purity again." She placed her hands atop her stomach, and looked up to the sky. "Remember my words, Zarius. When the sickness comes for you and your family dies, tired and sad in their beds. Remember that when you were ill, I brought you herbs from my garden. When your crops died, I renewed them. When you table was empty, I offered you food. And when your wife died in her bed, I grieved for your loss. Remember that when you took my husband's life with my hand, he forgave me. Remember that he was a better man than you could ever hope to be. And remember that what comes from this is of your own doing."

She closed her eyes then, and welcomed the heavy fall of the blade as it pierced her chest and sheared through her heart. It was already broken anyway; she had no use for it now.

Lydia stood, hands pressed to her mouth, tears filling her eyes.

With a vengeful cry, the crows swung down from the branches then. They dug their clawed feet into whatever face they could reach, until each man cried out in pain and ran from their attack, leaving the open grave as it was.

Left alone with Bonnie's body, Lydia moved closer slowly. She knelt beside Bonnie, who lay still and cold, blood gushing from the open wound where her heart lay. And then the ground began to move beneath her. The dirt climbed atop Bonnie, shielding her from view, and from it poked tiny green stems that flourished into a beautiful array of flowers.

One stood just a little taller than all the rest.

Lydia reached for it. She let it curl itself around her finger, but it climbed her arm, coiling itself around her, higher and higher, until it reached her hair, where it tucked itself behind her ear. She reached for it, touched the purple petals with the tips of her fingers, and closed her eyes. When she reopened them, it was day, and rather than being buried under the dirt, Bonnie lay on a bed of flowers, staring up at the sky.

Voices echoed all around. Her children and Damon's, all coming together, like a beautiful chorus. It all overlapped, one after the other, fractions of moments. Of ' _Mama! Mama, look!_ ' and ' _I love you_ ' and ' _we will keep them safe_ ' and ' _come with us, please!_ ' and ' _it's okay_ ' and ' _you can do this_ ' and ' _one more push and the pain can end_.'

"Do you hear them?"

Lydia blinked, and raised her eyes to Bonnie's face.

Her lips turned up faintly. "When Dysin was a little boy, he would climb everything he could. The bed, the cabinets, the trees… He wanted to fly with the birds and the clouds and touch the stars…" A tear trickled from her eye. "I hope he did."

Lydia swallowed tightly. She had no words. No solace to offer.

"And M'Kenna…" Bonnie laughed, throaty and thick with tears. "She would live in the water if she could. I would find puddles everywhere. She would create them from nothing. Just leave them everywhere in the house and on the ground. She would make these figures from the water and have them dance for us."

Bonnie wove her hand through the air and the image of two people made completely of water swung themselves around in circles. "She would come with me when I washed the clothes at the creek. She wanted to help, but she would always become distracted talking to the tadpoles and the fish…" Bonnie shook her head and closed her eyes, her mouth trembling. "She told me once that she would not be queen of the fish, because she wanted to be their equal, not their ruler…"

"I've seen M'Kenna," Lydia told her. "She sent me here."

Bonnie turned her head to look at her, her brow furrowed. "How is she? Is she well?"

"She's… probably a lot older than you remember." Lydia winced. "It's been a long time, Bonnie."

"Time is irrelevant." She laid her head back down among the flowers. "Tell me of my children. Have you met the others as well?"

"I don't know. I've only met M'Kenna."

"Neci was the strongest. In mind and spirit and body, too. She had fear in her, of herself more than anything, but she tried so _hard_ to love herself. To never let how others felt dictate how she looked at herself." Bonnie shook her head. "I feared for her. Every day, I feared what they might say or do. How they might chip away at her. You have to understand; people, they are cruel. They destroy what they cannot control. But Neci… She was fire. There was no control but her own."

Raising her hand once more, Bonnie produced a flame that moved along the back of her fingers like liquid. "When the townspeople came, they had torches… Their eyes betrayed them in the dark, and so they took the element they feared to light their way." She laughed incredulously.

"What they did to you was _wrong_ …" Lydia shook her head. "Your family, what you all went through…"

"I had a beautiful family. Whole and strong. They _took_ it from me." She closed her hand and the fire died, curls of black smoke filtering up the cracks of her fingers. "I never knew hate, not truly, not until that night. Before that, I knew indifference, mistrust, fear, but not hate… I thought if I was kind to them, if I shared what was gifted to me, they would see that I meant them no harm. That I only wanted to live, to raise my family…"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"No. _They did_." She gritted her teeth and a Lydia felt a wave of terrible energy rush through her.

But as quickly as it came, it dissipated.

Bonnie's eyes darted toward Lydia and bore into her. "What are you, sweet girl? What lives in your blood?"

"I… I'm a banshee. M'Kenna said the first banshee was Riyella. She was a descendant of Dysin's."

"Banshee," Bonnie repeated, the word foreign on her lips. "What does a banshee do?"

She laughed sadly. "I'm not really sure. I— I know when death is coming. I can feel it. I can see them sometimes." Her eyes grew distant for a moment.

"See them…" Bonnie turned onto her side and pillowed her head on her arm. "Like you see me? And my daughter, M'Kenna…? That is what you want to say, is it not? That my daughter no longer lives."

"She did though. Before. When you and Damon ran, you gave them a chance. They survived. All of them did. They had families. I know because all of us, everyone I know, comes from you. Banshees were created by a witch. Werewolves, were-coyotes, vampires, all of us… And the witches, there's so many of them now. The Bennetts though, they're good. They're like you, I think."

"But there are some that are not. Some are born of vengeance and hatred…?"

Lydia hesitated. She pressed her lips flat for a moment, but ultimately decided not to lie. "Yes. There are. Just like there are terrible humans, like the ones that hurt you, there are terrible vampires and witches and everything else… But they don't represent us."

"Who does then?" Bonnie stared up at her. "Are you good, Lydia?"

"I like to think I am… I try to be…" She shook her head. "I'm not perfect. I can be vain and materialistic and self-involved. I've hurt people before. But I've grown and I'm a better person." Once she started, she couldn't stop the flood of feelings from pouring out. "I'm terrified of these powers. I don't know who I am half the time or who I'm becoming or what I'm doing. And I have to live with the idea that I might know when someone I love is dying, _again_. But I'm here. I'm in this town, trying to do the right thing, and I'm here, talking to you, because I think that there is still good in you. No matter how much they tried to take it from you. I think that at your core, you're a good person. And there is someone in this room that wants to use you, that wants to take all of that hurt in you and devastate the world with it. But you can't _let_ him. _Please_. I know that you have seen the worst that people have to offer, but I promise you, there is good too."

Bonnie sat up and crossed her legs beneath her. "Will you show me?"

"How?"

Bonnie held her hands out. "Show me the world you have seen. The people you know. The good and the evil that have touched your life."

Lydia's hands curled into fists. "What if I've seen more bad than good?"

"I seek honesty." She nodded her chin down to her hands. "Show me your world, Lydia."

Licking her lips, she sighed. Moving to sit in front of Bonnie, Lydia reached out. Her hands trembled as they laid themselves atop Bonnie's. At first, there was nothing, just warmth, feeding itself into her skin. And then— _light_.

Lydia was born, screaming and crying. The world a blur of noise. And then her mother. She knew it was her; her hands stroking Lydia's head and her cheek. Her voice cooing at her, telling her she was beautiful and so, _so_ loved.

In a flash, her life exploded past her eyes. Skinned knees, kisses, tears, bed time stories, her parents fighting, her mother leading her back to her room and putting her to bed, telling her to read her books and not listen to the noise. She grew older, smarter, she could read well past the other kids. She buried herself in books and knowledge to escape the sound of her parents arguing, yelling at each other, slamming doors, car wheels squealing.

She was six when the world took a turn. Towers, airplanes, _war_. Hatred. Fear. Blood-soaked flags laid to rest on too many coffins. The news, spewing so much darkness in the world. A world divided by color and race and religion. A nation divided by racism and fear-mongering. What started out as strange and wrong and terrifying became the norm; static in the background.

At school, she was popular. Pink lipstick and heels that pinched, but they looked so nice, and they made her feel tall and strong. _Untouchable._

 _Jackson_. With his smarmy smirk and cutting tongue. His hand always fits with hers, and he made her feel pretty and wanted and loved. But she couldn't be smart, couldn't tell him what she read in her books that day. He wasn't interested and she was good at pretending that didn't hurt.

 _Allison_. With her big smile and her warm eyes and her jacket— " _and you are my new best friend._ " Allison laughing. Allison with her bow. Allison crying over her mother. Over Scott. Over all of it. Allison being strong. Willing to take on the world and repay its debt to her and her family. The wound healing. Finding hope again. Allison with her special arrow. Allison dying, and the tear in Lydia's heart as it happened. She's too far, too far. _I can't get to her. Please, no, don't take her. Not her._

Black dress, black heels, a veil to cover puffy eyes. Laid to rest too young. _It isn't fair_. Scott's hand in hers, squeezing, anchoring. Stiles' shoulder pressed to hers, a rose in his hand, a thorn catches his thumb. He bleeds.

 _Stiles_. Fidgeting, always fidgeting. Eyes darting, looking for clues, for signs, for the next big threat. Threads, tying one to the next to the other. Chewing his fingernails to the quick as he anticipates who will die, who they can trust. _Too many, too few_. He's too human. Flesh and blood and no healing factor. But he's always there, jumping in, head first, waving a bat that won't do enough.

 _Malia_. Wild and brash and too honest for her own good. Her clothes scream Allison but her heart is all her own. She _grows, grows, grows._ Wildling girl that lives by the law of the forest. Protect yourself first. But she learns. She cares. Protect others. Even when their teeth are sharp. _Protect, protect, protect_. She is pack.

 _Scott_. His hugs grow tighter and tighter the more they lose, the more they struggle. The ghost of Allison shadows his every step. Is it wrong? Can she love him without destroying the memory of her best friend? No. Yes. _Maybe_. He's not Jackson. His smile is kind. His hands are soft. His eyes are warm. He touches her with reverence and respect and love. The doors don't slam here. He yells to protect, not to hurt. A wolf call that burrows itself into her head, that pushes away the voices and the fear and the pain.

The bodies pile up, one atop the next. Enemy after enemy, friend after friend. There is no end. The world has narrowed down to the next fight, the next obstacle, the next death. Exhaustion swamps her. _Let me sleep, please, let me sleep_. But the call comes. _Mystic Falls. Come to me, come home._ Mother.

 _Mother, mother, mother._

They pack their bags and drive toward the unknown. She can feel it building in her stomach, the sticky sensation of imminent blood. Death. Loss. Sorrow. The town stinks of it. It is overrun with enemies. The supernatural. Things she doesn't even have a name for. Chaos reins supreme. Destruction everywhere. They destroy each other in the streets and laugh over what they've done. But it won't last. It can't. Mother calls. Mother waits.

It speeds up then. She sees all of them. Stefan and Caroline. The Bennetts. Elena, Tyler, Jeremy, and Alaric. Sarah and Matt. And her people. Scott, Stiles, Malia, Derek, and Braeden. They gather to search for a solution, an option, a way to save them all.

 _Damon_.

Risen from the ground, stinking of sorrow and regret, of pain and shame. He carries the loss of his family with him always. It weighs down his shoulders, chains him to a world he can't leave, _won't leave_ , not without her. _Her her her_. The world is tinted in blood and anger, vengeance and fear.

And then a light.

Bonnie on a table.

Damon in search of his children, to bring back hope and closure.

And then, a dark, damp cellar…

 _Give it to her. Let her see. She has to see._

Give her what?

 _This._

Before Lydia could see what it was that passed through her, it ended.

She opened her eyes to the field once more, with Bonnie seated in front of her, hands hovering just an inch above her own.

Bonnie opened her eyes to meet Lydia's. "They have them."

Lydia's brow furrowed. "Who?"

Grabbing onto Lydia's wrists, she pulled at her. "Wake me up, Lydia."

"I don't know how."

"A resurrection spell, but it will not be enough. You must anchor my soul. Pull it from this plane and draw it back to my body. You must scream, as loud as you can. Draw me to my form."

Lydia felt panic and uncertainty swamp her, but she nodded. "I… _Okay_. I will."

Bonnie smiled gently. She reached for Lydia's face and caressed her cheek, just as her mother had when she'd been born. "You can do this. You are strong. When I live once more, I will teach you how to tend your gifts. How to control them."

Lydia's eyes burned. "You will?"

"You are my kin, Lydia. You and yours." She pushed up to her knees then. "Bring me home, now. Show me the way."

The forest began to fade from view, and Bonnie with it.

Lydia panicked, clawing at the ground beneath her. "No. Please. I… I'm scared!"

"Channel your fear," Bonnie called to her, an echo in her ears. "Conquer it!"

Lydia sucked in a deep breath, and when she let it out, she was back in the parlor of the house.

Kai was snapping his fingers in front of her face, a piece of red licorice dangling from his mouth. "Well?"

Wide-eyed and dizzy, Lydia nodded. "I know what to do. I… I can bring her back."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Do you know what you're doing?" Malia wondered to Lydia, eyeing the heretics as they hovered over a grimoire at the end of the table.

"Do we ever?"

Malia shrugged. "Sometimes. Kind of."

Lydia rolled her eyes. She leaned over to rest her shoulder against Malia's. "Tell me I'm doing the right thing."

"But I don't know if you're doing the right thing…"

Lydia huffed a short laugh. "Tell me anyway."

"Okay. Lydia, you're doing the right thing."

"Well, try to sound _convincing_."

Malia frowned at her.

"Fine. Don't. Just… I don't know. Don't leave me."

"Of course I won't. Wherever you go, I go."

Lydia's mouth kicked up faintly, but it fell just as quick. "I don't know if I convinced her. I don't know if she believes any of this is worth saving."

"What do you believe?"

"That what happened to her wasn't right… That she was a good person once, in the beginning."

"But she isn't now?"

"I don't know what she is now." She paused. "She said she'd help me, with my powers."

"Well, that sounds like something a good person would do, right?"

"Maybe. Unless she was just saying that so I'd help her."

"I don't know. You're starting to sound paranoid."

"Considering what's happening, I think I have a good reason to be."

Malia shrugged. "There's no going back now, right? She's gonna wake up."

"Yeah." Lydia chewed her lip. "Do you think we were wrong, to come here?"

She blinked. "We didn't come here willingly."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Not _here_ like this creepy house of manipulation. To Mystic Falls."

"Oh…" She gave it some thought and then said, "No."

Lydia looked up at her, her brows raised. "Really?"

"I mean, it hasn't been great, but… We're needed here. You said so. We're here for a reason." She nodded her chin toward Bonnie. "I don't know her, not really. But I know you. If something is telling you to wake her up, then I trust that."

"I barely know what my powers do. Anybody could be telling me that. I've been in a mental institution, that's not exactly a shining endorsement."

"Yeah, well, so have I."

They paused, looked at each other, and then snorted.

"Our lives _suck_ , you know that, right?"

"There's been some highlights."

"Let's hope this is one of them."

Kai clapped his hands and drew everyone's attention. "I don't know about you, but I've got this thing memorized…" He smirked. "Red Rover, Red Rover, I call Mother over…"

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Where are we going?" Malia frowned as Bonnie's body was moved by two unfamiliar faces, carrying her from the house.

"We need space to spread our witchy wings." Kai smirked. "Can't fit everybody in the house. And we're gonna need all of them. Resurrection takes a lot of power. Plus, what's a big show without an audience?"

Malia's lip curled in disdain. She turned back to Lydia, who was looking a little pale. "Are you okay? You're sweating."

Lydia nodded jerkily. "Fine. Just…" She shook her head. "I'll be okay."

Malia eyed her uncertainly. Instead of arguing, she hooked her arm around Lydia's waist and tried to hold the majority of her weight up.

The heretics stepped forward to separate them, however. Beau took Lydia, lifting her right up off the ground to carry her. Valerie simple grabbed onto Malia's arm and _pulled_. The world went by in a blur that left Malia dizzy, her stomach twisting. When she was in her coyote form, she could run fast, but nothing like this. Thankfully, it didn't last too long. Soon enough, they were standing in the middle of the town, atop a stage.

Bonnie was already there, laid out on a table once more. The purple flowers that had once lined her hair were dying. Curled petals littered the floor around her.

A cool chill lit the air as a bitter breeze brushed past her, and Malia wrapped her arms around herself. It was strange being outside without her enhanced senses. She felt _muted_. Like she was missing a part of herself that was so intrinsic that she wasn't quite _her_ without it. There was a certain comfort that came with being able to sniff out an enemy. Here, she was at the whim of a lunatic and his band of unhappy followers.

"Malia…"

She turned at Lydia's voice and frowned as she saw people, hundreds of them, walking toward the stage, all carrying torches.

"That's not creepy," Malia muttered.

Beau and Valerie exchanged a look.

Kai made his way over then. He pulled Lydia away from where she'd been leaning against Beau and redirected her to stand at Bonnie's head. "Here. Get ready for you debut as Top Banshee." He left her to move to the front of the stage then, and Malia wandered over to Lydia, bumping shoulders with her.

It took some time, but eventually, the whole area in front of the stage was full of people staring up at them. Malia couldn't differentiate anyone on sight. Were they witches? Vampires? Heretics? She didn't know, and it put her on edge. They were so many, _too_ many; she wouldn't be able to defend herself and Lydia. That didn't stop a very stubborn part of her from vowing to do just that, though. Whatever came for them, she was ready. She'd use her human teeth and nails if she had to.

"Welcome!" Kai grinned at the large crowd. "Before we get started, I'd just like to thank my parents. They're the reason I'm here today. Their unrelenting fear and hatred of me made me the man you see before you. Well, that and my complete lack of empathy for people." He laughed. "Anyway, I know you didn't come here for some heartfelt speech, so let's get to the meat of things…" He threw his arm back. "I give you, the Mother of Magic! A little worse for wear, and definitely in need of a wardrobe upgrade, but we'll get to that soon enough."

Waving dismissively, he said, "All right, you all know what you need to be doing. Everybody got the group text, right? No breaks in the chain, let's get this ball rolling…"

Torches were placed on the side, creating a long line of light on either side of the crowd. Abruptly, they all parted, creating line after line, looking like soldiers at the ready. Each of them placed one hand on the person in front of them and the other on the person to their left, until they were all connected. Stepping down the stairs at the front of the stage, Mary Louise placed her hand on the person closest to her, then held a hand out to Nora. Nora linked with Beau who reached for Valerie, who held her hand aloft to Kai. Finally, Kai placed one hand in Valerie's and the other atop Bonnie's shoulder.

"All together now…"

As one, the entire crowd began to chant. All but Kai, who looked to Lydia and lifted his chin at her. "Your turn, Kid. Bring mama home."

Lydia swallowed tightly. She glanced at Malia nervously, and then placed her shaking hands atop Bonnie's temples. Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head back and focused.

Malia stood, watching.

The chanting seemed to be growing deeper and louder. Even Kai had joined in. It was eerie. All those faces, all those voices. The fire of their torches began to climb, higher and higher. Above, clouds were forming. A rumble of thunder rolled and a crack of lightning lit the sky. A howling wind kicked up, whizzing past and throwing Malia's hair around so sharply it slapped against her skin and left her face stinging. The trees began to sway, and the lightening came faster and brighter. It snapped against the top of a tree, sheering it in half and leaving burning chunks in its wake.

Malia's heart pounded in her chest and nervous energy zipped up and down her body. Her instinct was to run. To grab Lydia and make a break for it. But there were so many. She wanted her pack. She wanted Scott to tell her what to do. What was the right thing to do? If she killed Kai, was it right? Was it okay if she knew that he was evil? That he would bring on the end of the world? That he wanted to see the world burn around them?

She felt a warm energy then, and she turned.

Bonnie was hovering over the table. Straight as a board, she floated. The tattered remains of her dress began to mend. The color, once dull and faded, began to darken to a smooth black. Her choppy hair lengthened, falling in thick curls beneath her. And then her head rose and her feet fell, so she was standing, raised above them all, her arms outstretched to her sides.

A thumping noise caught Malia's attention, and she looked out at the crowd. People were falling. One by one, scattered among the group, they would slip to the ground, lifeless. But the others would just reach across them, keep up the chant, and continue on. Dozens of them fell away, _dead_ , and nobody stopped.

The lightening was getting closer. Another tree, this one nearly crashing atop the stage, fell to the ground. Malia hurried to Lydia and grabbed at her arm. They had to go. _Now_. But Lydia wouldn't budge.

"I have to wake her," she murmured, her eyes distant. "She has to come home."

"Lydia, this is crazy. Come on, we need to get out of here!"

Lydia shook her head. "It's time."

Rain began to fall, a downpour that left them drenched in seconds.

The dead flowers wound themselves around Bonnie's arms and torso. They crawled down her legs and up her neck, spreading green stems all along her skin.

And then, in the same second that a bolt of lightening left the sky and hit Bonnie, directly in the chest, Lydia _screamed_.

Malia fell to her knees, covering her ears. The sound was _deafening_. So much so, that she could feel blood under her hands.

Just as quickly as it all began, it ended.

Lydia went quiet. The chanting stopped. The storm ended.

Malia blinked against the water dripping from her hair and down her face. She stood to find the sky had cleared and nearly half the crowd lay dead on the ground. And there, above it all, was Bonnie. Still floating, spinning delicately, like a gentle wind was dancing with her. She lowered to the ground, bare feet landing in cold puddles.

Bonnie took a deep breath, her hands pressed to her cheeks. Malia couldn't tell if it was rain water or tears that left tracks down Bonnie's face. She opened bright green eyes to the world and looked out at everyone in front of her.

"Well, this is exciting." Kai stepped forward then. "Does 'mom' work or should we work up to that…?"

Bonnie turned her head toward him, and then looked past him, to Lydia. Her lips moved, but the words that left her weren't anything Malia had ever heard.

"Sorry?" Kai frowned, then looked to his coven. "Translation spell? Anybody…?"

"Sorry," Lydia whispered. "She said 'I'm sorry.'"

Kai smiled, brow furrowed in confusion. "For what?"

Bonnie stared him in the eye. " _This_." She reached out to press a hand to his face.

He sucked in a pained breath as his skin turned grey and veins crawled up his face. Still linked to the rest of his coven, they followed the same fate.

Bonnie's other hand quickly reached out and wrapped around Lydia's throat. "Scream," she ordered.

Malia stepped forward, but a sharp look from Bonnie stopped her.

"I will not hurt her," she promised, but the tight press of her fingers on Lydia's jugular wasn't promising. "Scream, Lydia."

Lydia's chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, but she drew in a deep breath and let out another scream.

"Good girl," Bonnie said soothingly. She released Lydia's neck, but a tether of energy linked her fingers to her still. Turning on her heel, she reached out to something no one could see. "Come."

Below, more of the crowd fell, one by one, they littered the ground. But with each person that fell, the more that M'Kenna, holding her mother's hand, could be seen.

Until, finally, she was whole. Just as alive as any of them. Bonnie released Lydia and Kai then.

While Malia hurried to grab Lydia, Kai fell to his knees. He was struggling to breathe, still grey, but not completely dessicated. He turned angry, blood shot eyes on Bonnie, but he could hardly move, let alone attack.

Bonnie, unconcerned, reached out to embrace her daughter. She patted at M'Kenna's hair and face with adoring hands, laughing as she pressed her cheek to her daughter's and swayed them, side to side. While M'Kenna, tears in her eyes, clutched at her mother.

Noise on the other side of the crowd drew attention then.

Malia turned and let out a relieved breath as she caught sight of Scott, Stiles, and Derek. Beside them were the Bennetts, and at their backs were the others; Tyler, Elena, Alaric, Matt, and Sarah.

And there, pushing past them all, was Damon.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Damon's heart thundered in his chest as he stared at the stage, watching his wife and his daughter clutch each other tight. He didn't care for the bodies that littered the ground. All he cared about was that Bonnie was alive, and right there in front of him.

He crossed the field in record time, standing at the bottom of the stairs, peering up at her from wide, damp eyes. "Bonnie…"

She released M'Kenna just enough to turn her head. And then she laughed, tears falling down her face. She let go of their daughter to walk toward him.

He climbed the stairs to meet in her in the middle and caught her as she leapt into his arms. Burying his face against her neck, he breathed her in. Rain water, earth and smoke. He leaned back and combed his fingers over her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead and her cheek and finally her lips.

"I missed you… I'm sorry… Was my fault… Never should've… Won't let you go…" He lifted her up off her feet as he kissed her, swinging her around happily. They floated right off the ground, hovering in the air. Bonnie's arms, wrapped around his neck, held tight, her fingers combing through his hair. When he came to a stop, they were chest to chest, and her hands framed his face as she smiled down at him.

Pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead, she turned, and held her hand out.

They floated back down to the stage and M'Kenna walked toward them, taking her mother's hand.

Damon let Bonnie down, and grinned between them. "As reunions go, I thought ours would be a lot bloodier..."

"There is still time." Bonnie cast her gaze out toward the crowd, and past it to the slowly approaching group of misfits, armed to the teeth. "We cannot stay."

"Why?" Damon scoffed down at a wheezing, struggling Kai. The rest of his heretics were passed out, but not dead. Not yet. "So far as I can tell, we're winning."

Bonnie shook her head. "They are not the enemy. Not yet."

"Could've fooled me."

"Our enemy is greater than this." She looked up at him. "Betrayal cannot go unanswered." Her eyes lit up, eerily bright. "I have unfinished business here. I cannot be distracted."

"Distracted…?" Damon shook his head "If anybody wants to make people pay for what happened, it's me. But Bonnie…" He gripped her shoulders and squeezed. "This isn't you. This isn't who you are or what you believe in."

Her chin raised defiantly. "Beliefs change."

"Not yours." He frowned. "Listen to me… My mother has a hand in this. It's complicated. We need to think this through."

"You _defend_ them?"

"What? _No!_ " Fire lit his eyes and pulsed along black, scaled cheeks. "They took our family."

She bared her teeth then. "And they will pay for it. A debt is owed to us."

He sighed, and the fire faded. "Some debts can't be paid."

"We will see." She stepped back from him then, taking M'Kenna with her. "I cannot let you stop me. I know you, Damon. Once you have set your mind to something, you cannot be convinced…"

He pursed his lips. "You're one to talk."

Bonnie shook her head. "You will understand when this is over."

His eyes narrowed. "Understand _what_?"

She smiled at him gently. "I love you. That truth will never change."

"Bonnie—"

With a shake of her head, she reached out, took Lydia's hand, and was _gone_.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _i've been fiddling with this since tuesday, and honestly i just need to put it out and stop readjusting things. so i hope you like this first introduction to bonnie. there's a lot more of her to come._

 _thank you all so, so much for reading. please, try to leave a review! they really keep me motivated._

 _thanks,_  
 **\- Lee | Fina**


	13. nature

**chapter rating** : teen  
 **word count** : 7,255

* * *

 **xiii.**

Damon let out a long-suffering sigh as he stared at the place his wife had once been. Mouth pressed in an annoyed line, he cast a dismissive look at Kai, and then turned to Malia. He held a hand out, and she reached back, letting him pull her to his side.

"You okay, Kid?"

Malia nodded, but also kicked at Kai's limp hand. "He didn't hurt us. He just said he'd kill us if we didn't help."

"Stand up guy." Damon stared down at Kai, whose eyes were open and peering right back at him. "This is the one Gilbert ratted us out to. Him and his coven were hunting down the Bennetts…"

"Gilbert?" Malia looked up at him, her brow furrowed. "Jeremy was a snitch?"

"Yeah. Turns out he was the one that told Kai to follow the Bennetts. He figured out we were waking Bonnie up."

"So… What are we gonna do with him?" She stared down at Kai. "We can't just let him go…"

"No." Damon smirked. "No, we can't."

* * *

Tyler, carrying a gun loaded with wooden bullets at his side, waved his hand around at the collection of dead or passed out bodies. "What the hell was _that?_ "

Damon glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. "I told you, Kai and his kind needed more energy to wake Bonnie up. They're not natural witches. So, they paid the price."

" _Death?_ Most of these people are worm food." Tyler shook his head. "What happened to her being forgiving?"

"Bonnie didn't kill these people. _He_ did." He motioned to Kai, laid out at his feet.

" _Technically_ , it looked like she had a hand in killing at least some of them." Stiles shrugged. "When she brought her daughter back, I mean. That was her daughter, right?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "So, a few heretics bit the big one. So what…?"

Derek pushed through the crowd then, and reached for Malia's shoulder. "You're okay?"

Malia half-smiled up at him. "Fine. Bonnie took Lydia, though."

"Took her _where?_ " Scott demanded, looking from her to Damon, his mouth pressed flat.

"She's planning something."

Stiles scratched at his temple, his foot tapping nervously. "Like an _apocalypse_ something?"

"She didn't use that word. She just said that we were owed a debt, and she plans on collecting…" Damon shrugged. "She's upset. She'll come around."

"When?" Tyler shook his head. "She just wiped out ninety percent of the local heretic population _waking up_. And she's got two more kids. Is she going to wake them up, too?"

Damon stared at him a moment, and then frowned. "I have somewhere to be."

A chorus of incredulous ' _what's'_ rose up, but he ignored them. Instead, he turned to Stefan. "Lock Kai and the others up somewhere safe. Get the Bennetts to bind their powers until I get back."

Stefan nodded. "Any particular reason?"

"They're dangerous. And I have a few questions for them." He turned to Malia then. "Up for another field trip?"

"This'll help Lydia, right?"

"In the long run? _Probably_."

She considered it for a moment, and then nodded. "Sure. Let's go."

" _Malia!_ " Scott worried.

"I promised Lydia that I would look out for her, and I am." She stared back at him, her brows hiked. "I need to do this. And I need you to trust me."

He frowned, hesitation lining his face, but eventually, he nodded.

"What?" Stiles shook his head. "Uh, _no_." He stepped forward and searched Malia's face. "You can't be serious about going with this guy. Look at what just happened."

"Damon didn't do this. I know that all of this is really complicated. But I also know that Damon wants to help. Friends help friends, Stiles. You taught me that. And Damon is my friend."

He stared at her, speechless, his brow furrowed as he searched for an argument. "I just… I need you to be careful. It feels like we're all splitting up and we have no idea how this is going to turn out."

She nodded. "Okay. I'll text you guys, all right?" Turning on her heel, she followed after Damon, who was making his way down the stairs of the stage.

* * *

Damon grinned at Sheila as he came to a stop in front of her.

Sheila's brow ticked up. "You wanna explain what all that was?"

"The pre-show, I'd guess. She's building up to something. She seems to think the enemy is bigger than this."

"Every human on earth bigger, or…?"

"Not sure yet. But I have a theory." He patted her shoulder as he passed her. "Don't worry too much, Witchling. I know my wife. I can fix this."

"Just like a man to think that it's up to him to make it all better…" Sheila turned on her heel to watch him as he walked backwards through the field of bodies. "You ever think maybe you're just as much a bystander as the rest of us?"

He grinned. "Bonnie and I have been partners since the moment we met. If she wants to destroy the world, I'll destroy it with her. She wants to save it, we'll save it."

Sheila's eyes narrowed. "A blasé attitude for someone who likes a few people living in this world."

"The afterlife might be nice. Never know 'til you try it." He winked then, and after taking Malia's hand, disappeared in a flash.

Sheila sighed. "Arrogant man."

"Mama?"

She turned to find Abby standing a few feet away, Jamie and Elijah at her back. "Just where have you three been?"

"We got caught up on our way here. While Kai was pulling all this, a pack of vampires and werewolves were fighting in the streets. It's chaos out there. When the storm hit, the wolves _turned!_ No full moon or anything."

" _What?_ "

Elijah walked forward then, smoothing a hand down a sleeve of his jacket. "They haven't turned back. It isn't safe out here. We should find shelter elsewhere."

" _We?_ " Sheila raised an eyebrow at him. "You kidnap my daughter and grandson and now you think you're a part of this?"

"Kidnap is a strong word…"

"Not a wrong one." Abby looked up at him.

He pursed his lips but didn't argue.

"Look, mama. I'm not defending what he did. It was _stupid_." She rolled her eyes. "But he does have connections and he can help us… Besides, the mansion's a lot closer than the boarding house."

Sheila took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. If she planned on arguing, it died on her lips as a chorus of howls could be heard in the near distance. A shudder of fear ran down her back. " _Fine_." Her mouth pinched as she turned to the others. "Werewolves are on the loose. Elijah's offered his house as a haven. Let's go."

Caroline hooked a hand around Matt's arm and dragged him along behind her. She nodded to Lucy and held a hand out. Lucy nodded back and took it. They were gone in a blink.

Stefan walked over to stand by Sheila, motioning for Sarah to join them.

"What about them?" Sarah nodded toward the heretics.

"There's a truck parked over there." Stiles pointed to a blue pick-up parked by a copse of trees. "We could hotwire it, pile them in the back… But the noise might draw the wolves."

Sheila shook her head. "Too risky. Take who you can and come back."

Stefan nodded at her.

Leaving him to it, Sheila turned to Braeden and Abby.

"I'm fine, Mama." Abby glanced at Elijah and then back to Jamie, who moved to stand on Elijah's other side. "We'll meet you at the house." Elijah wrapped an arm around Abby's waist and a hand at Jamie's elbow, but waited for Sheila's nod before he left.

Sheila looked to Braeden then, who was lingering next to Derek.

Braeden shook her head. "We'll walk over."

Sheila's mouth pinched. "These wolves aren't like you and yours," she said to Derek. "If they've been turned against their will, you don't know how they'll react. Only _some_ of them turned at Bonnie's awakening, that could be an omen."

"We'll be careful."

Sheila still looked hesitant, but nodded. She walked to Braeden and took both of her hands, squeezing them tightly. "I held my tongue when you went looking for your place and found it in Beacon Hills. I didn't argue when you said you had a werewolf for a boyfriend. I trusted you to make the right decisions. You're a smart woman, Braeden. Always have been. Even when you were making choices that your mother would've pulled her hair out for, I knew. You were just walking your own path, getting to where you needed to be."

Braeden said nothing, simply staring at her grandmother.

"Be sure about this. You could be walking into the middle of a fight you aren't prepared for."

"I might not be able to defend myself like you do. I don't have that kind of power. But I know my way around a gun. And I'm pretty familiar with how werewolves work." She half-grinned. "I'll be okay, Grams."

Sheila nodded, but she held on tight to Braeden's hands still, swiping her thumbs along the top. Finally, she gave them one last shake and then let them go. She turned to Derek then. "You watch her back."

"And she'll watch mine." He nodded.

Stefan reappeared then, with a few unfamiliar faces in tow. "They're from Klaus' hybrid pack," he explained. "Elijah sent them to help with the heretics." While they went ahead to gather up the heretics, Stefan walked to Sheila, holding a hand out for her.

She nodded, and placed her hand atop Stefan's.

With one last look at the group, Stefan took Sheila away.

Derek and Braeden turned to Scott then.

He nodded and looked to Stiles, who was shifting his feet back and forth.

"I'm staying if you are," Stiles told him.

"You should go. It's dangerous."

"I'm staying."

Scott sighed, but half-smiled at his best friend.

"Tyler?" Elena looked to him.

"I'll walk. I want to see them for myself. Shifting like this, it's not normal." At Elena's worried frown, he reached for her, hooking an arm around her hip and pulling her to him. "I'll be okay. I promise."

She stared up at him from under her lashes. "I can stay… I'll come with you."

"No. It's too dangerous. All it takes is one bite."

"Elena… We need to go." Alaric tugged at her shoulder. "They're getting closer. They can smell the bodies. They'll head this way."

She chewed her lip uncertainly.

" _Go_." Tyler kissed her forehead and then pushed her back. "I'm right behind you."

Staring at him a beat longer, she finally nodded. Turning, she grabbed Alaric's wrist and was gone.

Stiles looked around at those who remained and swung his bat absently. "So? We should probably get out of here. Find some coverage. See what the wolves do from a distance…"

Tyler nodded. "The smell of the bodies should keep them occupied for a while. We can get a feel for what they're like."

"You think they're out for blood?" Derek wondered.

"I think when they shift, they don't have control of their thoughts. They're going to attack everything they see."

"Even other wolves?" Stiles looked between them. "Will they attack you guys?"

"Don't know. Usually, no." Tyler shook his head. "They recognize their own instinctively. But this isn't a full moon. Something else triggered them."

Scott nodded. "All right. Let's move."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Lydia was shivering as she walked through the woods, her feet dragging. "Why— Why did you bring me with you?" she asked through chattering teeth.

"I made you a promise. And I need your aid."

Bonnie turned, her long dress dragging along the forest floor. There was something both eerie and ethereal about Bonnie. A pulsing energy surrounded her, almost naked to the eye. If Lydia squinted, she could see it, like ribbons of heat coming off a fire, everything was just a little out of focus around Bonnie's figure. Her power was potent before, a livewire begging to be touched, but it was different now, simmering under the surface, waiting to explode.

Still, calm as ever, Bonnie smiled at Lydia. She waved her hand in a specific manner, her fingers folding and stretching. A burst of warmth broke over Lydia's skin and flooded through her. The cold of before melted away, leaving her feeling comfortably toasty. She let out a whooshing sigh of relief.

Blinking a few times, she looked to Bonnie once more. "My _aid_ …? For what?"

"Come. I will explain." Bonnie crooked a finger, and then turned, continuing down through the woods.

The trees seemed to bend, simultaneously leaning into and out of Bonnie's way. Leaves scattered, twigs were blown from her path, and so it seemed the direction she was going was obvious. Far ahead, where the trees opened, was a ramshackle house. It looked, to Lydia, like one good gust of wind could knock it over. But the closer Bonnie walked to it, it seemed to straighten. The boards that once hung crooked, evened themselves out. Peeling white paint fell, showing the wood beneath. The stairs repaired, the windows uncracked, the pillars that held the roof above the porch straightened. Leaves and dirt and rubble blew away from the porch.

Lydia raised an eyebrow at Bonnie. "Moving in?"

"Temporarily." Bonnie walked up the stairs to the porch, and the front door of the house swung open invitingly. She looked back over her shoulder. "Come along, Lydia."

"I would not argue." M'Kenna winked at her. "She is used to getting her way."

Lydia watched M'Kenna walk ahead and follow her mother inside. It occurred to her that this was her chance to run. She had no idea where she was or how far she would get, but she could try. She could turn around and run as far as she could. There was even a chance that if she yelled, Scott might hear her. But another part of her, a very curious, very hopeful part, wanted to see what Bonnie needed her for. More, she wanted Bonnie to teach her how to harness her powers.

Chewing her lip, she took a step forward, and accepted whatever consequences might come from her choice.

* * *

...

* * *

Damon slowed down when they were far enough away from the rest of the crowd. He released Malia so she could walk next to him. Brow furrowed, he told her, "You smell different…"

"The heretics did something to me. Apparently I fought them and they didn't like it."

"You don't remember?"

"Not really. I just woke up in a dusty room with a bump on my head." She reached up and poked her fingers around until she found a sore spot, wincing as it stung.

Damon batted her hand away and came to a stop, pulling her to one too. He brushed her hair aside and probed the area she'd been poking. "You were bleeding. It's dry now."

"I'll be fine. Once I get my healing back, it'll stop."

He hummed. "What if you don't?"

"Don't what?"

"Get your healing back. You don't know what Kai or his band of merry maniacs _did_ … They could've stripped you of your magic while you were knocked out. No take-backs."

Malia turned to him, her eyes wide. "You think they did?"

He shrugged. "Not totally. I can smell it. It's just… _buried_."

"So it'll come back then?"

"It should. In the meantime, we need to clean that up…"

"Clean it how?" Her eyes narrowed uncertainly.

"Like you said, you were in some dusty room. You don't know what's gotten into that cut. Right now, you're effectively human." He pivoted and marched off down a street.

"Where are you going…?" She stomped a foot, frustrated, but when he didn't answer, she took off after him.

Damon smirked at her knowingly. "The boarding house is near here. We'll raid Stefan's for a First Aid Kit."

Her eyebrow arched. "You wanted me to come along so you could stitch me up?"

"No. But we can make a quick stop first."

"Fine." She sighed, kicking at a stray rock.

"Are you _pouting?_ "

" _No_."

He stared at her.

"A _little_." She crossed her arms. "I don't like this."

"What? Being a human?"

"Don't you _hate_ humans?"

Damon shrugged. "I'm not particularly fond of them, no."

"So, if I never get my magic back, then I'm like them? The people you hate."

"That's different."

She frowned. "How?"

"You weren't born human. Someone took your powers from you. And once we're done tying up a few loose ends, we'll go rattle Kai's cage, get him to tell us how to turn the magic back on."

"But what if he won't? Or can't?"

"Then we'll get Bonnie to wave her witchy fingers and _she_ can fix it."

"So… I'm broken then?"

"What?" His face screwed up. "No."

"You _just_ said that she'd ' _fix_ ' it, meaning I'm broken."

"You're taking my words _way_ out of context here."

"Then tell me the truth." She turned and tugged at his arm, forcing him to look at her. "We're friends, right? I helped you at the bar and I was lookout for you at the church. And I convinced Lydia to come to the house because you needed her help. _So?_ "

Damon let out a long sigh. "Yes. We're friends."

"Okay. So, if I'm not magical, if I'm _human_ , and you _hate_ humans—"

"I don't hate you, Malia. I hate the humans that hunted me and Bonnie down. That forced my children into hiding. That caused this whole fucked up thing to happen in the first place. I hate the mouthy little miscreants that think that just because they have my and Bonnie's blood in them, they're _superior_ , so they can just tear off and kill whomever and whatever they want. The ones turning this town inside out and acting like it's just their nature when I _know_ , for a fact, that they come from people who would never hurt one _hair_ on anyone's head. Not unless they absolutely _had_ to."

He stared at her searchingly. "I have more blood on my hands than any of them, I know that. But I never did it because I _wanted_ to. I did it because if I let just one of them go, they would find Bonnie. They would find my _kids_. They would _hurt_ them. So when I see people sneering at Sheila and you and acting like they're somehow better than you, I can't help but think of Bonnie, her guts in knots from the poison they fed her, running through the woods on legs that could barely hold her weight, doing everything she could to pull them away from where our kids were hiding under sacks, trying to muffle their crying, waiting for people to kill them where they lay. So I don't _hate_ humans or supernaturals or whatever you want to call them. I hate whoever hates me. I hate whoever comes for me or mine. It's that simple."

She considered his words for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay."

Damon looked away for a beat. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Come on. Sooner we get back to the boarding house, the sooner we can clean you up and move on."

Nodding, she started walking once more. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the church. I need to talk to my mother again."

"What about?"

"Lockwood mentioned something…" At Malia's curious look, he explained, "Bonnie wouldn't leave Dysin and Neci behind. The first thing she did was bring M'Kenna back. She'll be looking for the others next."

"And your mom knows where they are?"

"When I was on the other side, I asked them for all three of my children. They only gave me back M'Kenna. I wanna know why."

"You think something happened to them?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Wolves loped around the bodies laid out in front of the stage, sniffing and pawing at them. But they didn't spill blood. They didn't sink their teeth or claws into them. They merely explored, walking all around, as if they were searching for something.

"What are they looking for?" Stiles wondered, keeping his voice low.

Derek grimaced. "Survivors… They won't eat what they don't kill."

Scott glanced at him, his face twisted up. "They'll _eat_ them?"

"Maybe…"

" _Look_." Tyler pointed, and the group collectively looked back to the front of the stage.

A wolf was dragging a woman by the shoulder of her shirt.

Scott moved forward, but Derek pressed a hand to his chest to keep him back.

" _Wait_."

"If she's alive and we don't do anything—"

Derek looked at him, brows hiked. "Just wait."

"For what?" Stiles wondered.

"Watch."

The other wolves followed suit, pulling person after person from the piled up bodies, dragging them over to the side and laying them next to each other.

"They're not eating them…" Derek's brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "They're moving the survivors away from the dead."

Tyler shook his head. "Why?"

As if in answer, all of the bodies left behind suddenly began to smoke. Fire burst from their chests and began to eat away at the rest of them, turning them to piles of ash where they lay. And there, in the grass, flowers sprouted from the ground, marking their place.

The wolves gathered around the survivors then and sent up a chorus of howls to the sky, one after the other, a mournful song. When they were finished, they loped off toward the tree line and disappeared into the woods.

"What the hell…?" Stiles turned to them. "What was _that?_ "

Braeden, leaning against a tree, pursed her lips. "They were honoring them. They gave their lives to raise Bonnie and M'Kenna."

"But they were Capital E _Evil!_ They were Kai's lackeys!"

She shrugged. "Doesn't change what they did. Because of them, the Mother of Magic walks the earth again… You know, certain werewolf packs live completely off the land. They build communes in the forest and spend their lives giving back to the earth. They worship nature and the balance, almost as much as witches do."

Scott looked to her, curious. "Is that why they turned and we didn't?"

Braeden shrugged. "If I had to guess, yeah. Think of yourselves as modern werewolves. You aren't as connected to the earth as them. You don't answer to nature. You have your own rules and ways of doing things."

"So they won't hurt us?" Tyler eyed the treeline, unconvinced.

"I wouldn't say that. They did take on that vampire pack Abby mentioned. But that could just be instinct."

"Like coming out here to give thanks to the sacrificed…" Derek's brow furrowed.

"What are you thinking?" Braeden asked, walking over to press her shoulder to his and lean against his side.

His arm slid around her waist absently. "They turned when Bonnie woke up. They gave thanks to the dead… And Damon said once that she had the power to control us if she really wanted to."

"You think _she_ did this?"

"Maybe not on purpose. They turned because she called, because they honor nature, and she's linked to the earth in a way no one else is. Maybe they just instinctively did what she wanted… Maybe they're going to her now."

"Great, so she's got a loyal werewolf pack at her disposal, too. That's just… _great_." Stiles tapped his foot and shook his head. "Are we ever going to win? Huh?"

"We could follow them…" Braeden stared at the treeline.

"What if they _aren't_ headed to Bonnie? They could just be running in the woods, and interrupting could get us _killed_ ," Tyler argued.

Braeden shrugged. "Nobody's making you do anything, Lockwood." Leaving Derek's side, Braeden started for the woods.

Derek glanced at Stiles and Scott, and then followed after her, reaching for her free hand as it swung at her side.

Stiles chewed his lip and looked to Scott. "No. No way…"

"She has Lydia. If those wolves can lead us to her…"

Stiles groaned. He threw his head back, muttered under his breath, and then pointed to the trees. "Let's go."

Frowning at their backs, Tyler rolled his eyes, but hurried to catch up.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Lydia moved around the room slowly. It was mostly bare. A table with a few chairs, the wood stripped down and looking a little worse for wear. Whoever had lived there once upon a time, they'd long moved on, and left the house to slowly fall apart in their absence.

Bonnie was pacing circles, hair swaying at her back. Lydia couldn't help but wonder if it was nervous, focused energy that had her moving, or simply the fact that she'd been asleep for so long and she wanted to move to prove she wasn't still. Maybe a little of both.

"What did you see?" Lydia blurted.

Bonnie's gaze swung in her direction. "When?"

"When you were in my memories. Whatever that voice put in my head for you to have. What was it?"

"A message… A plea for help…" She paused. "A warning."

Brow furrowed, Lydia looked to M'Kenna and then back to Bonnie. "From who?"

"My daughter. Neci."

Abruptly, Lydia's vision went white, and she slipped away, back into her head, into that dark, dripping cellar.

 _"Mama, please…"_

 _A woman stood before her, her face long and her eyes damp. She was beautiful, despite the rags of her clothes and the dirt that clung to her skin. Her hair fell long to her waist in coils that were once curls but were now knotted and disheveled in places. Her dress, once beautiful, was torn and colorless, damp and faded at the bottom, where it sunk into the water. Lydia could see both Bonnie and Damon in the arch of Neci's cheeks, the shape of her eyes, the narrowness of her chin, the set of her shoulders, and the strength of her posture, even now, standing in chilled water, exhausted and depressed._

 _A man stood at her back, tall, handsome, his dark hair tied at the nape of his neck. He held his arms in front of him, one hand banded around the opposite wrist. He stood like his father, chin raised defiantly. But his eyes were Bonnie's. Warm and kind._

 _Neci's mouth trembled as she spoke, drawing Lydia's gaze back to her. "We are trapped. They have taken Dysin and I prisoner. I know not how he did it. What sorcery he played with or what deal he made. But he found us as we were crossing over. As the light grew too strong to keep our eyes open." She shook her head. "We knew not hell nor heaven. We only knew this. Our prison. He keeps us here, hidden from sight, from those who might free us."_

 _Through gritted teeth, as tear spilled down her cheeks, creating craters in the mud that streaked them, she said, "It has been so… long. Please, mama, you are our only hope."_

 _Thumbs stroked along Lydia's cheeks and Neci smiled at her gently. "I am sorry for using you as our vessel, Little One. I will make amends when we meet again."_

Sucking in air, Lydia returned to the house where Bonnie and M'Kenna stood, peering at her curiously.

"They… They're stuck. Someone took them."

Bonnie nodded, her mouth set in a severe line. "I must bring them back, Lydia. Like you helped bring me and M'Kenna back. They cannot stay there, wilting away in a prison of someone's making. They are not owed this. My family has given everything they have to this world. I rebuilt the earth as it was dying. My children's children created you and everyone you know. I will not let me or mine continue to suffer when we have done nothing to deserve it."

Lydia stared up at her, conflicted but also awash in the despair and hope that Neci had been flooded with. "I'll help you."

Bonnie smiled. "Good. I knew you would…" She walked forward then and cupped Lydia's face gently. "I will teach you as we go. No harm will come to you. I will help you open your mind and let your powers flow freely. It is your fear that keeps you from growing. My Neci was like you. Afraid of what might come from her, what she might do. We will change that. You have nothing to fear, Lydia. You are stronger than anything that could ever challenge you."

Lydia swallowed tightly, her eyes burning. "I don't want to feel it again. Not like it was. Not like with Allison."

As a tear slipped down her cheek, Bonnie's thumb caught it and wiped it away.

"The pain that comes from losing those we lost… We cannot dull it. We _have_ to feel it. Every terrible moment of it. You hurt because she mattered to you. Because she brought something to your life and now you feel you have lost it. But it is with you, always." She pressed her fingers to Lydia's heart. "Allison is at rest. She has found her peace. Would she not want the same for you?"

Lydia nodded jerkily, her mouth quivering. "But I can't do it again. I can't lose someone I love again. There's been too many." Her shoulders began to shake.

Bonnie pulled her forward and wrapped her arms around her, running a soothing hand over her hair. "I will not lie to you. A war is coming and many will not survive. But I will help you. I will share your burden, sweet girl. And when they come for you and yours, I will be at your side. I will fight them back with you."

Lydia buried her face against Bonnie's shoulder as she nodded.

"M'Kenna, my darling, let us make tea and we will share with Lydia stories of your own training."

"Yes, mama."

Sniffling, Lydia leaned back from Bonnie and rubbed at her face. She blinked then, as she looked around the room and found it was not quite so drab as it had been before. Instead, the walls that had once been a faded yellow were now a warm moss green. The dirt and rubble that covered the wood slatted floors were gone, revealing smooth boards underneath. The old stove that didn't look like it had worked in an age was now warming a kettle of water, and three white cups with flowers painted on their sides were lined up in wait.

She looked around in awe. "Your magic…"

"Is greater than it has ever been." Bonnie looked down at her hands, where green sparks flickered over her skin and then sunk underneath. With a frown, she folded her hands together and pressed them down, out of view. "Now… Tell us about yourself Lydia."

"You already know about me. You saw my memories."

M'Kenna looked back at her as she opened a box of tea bags. "I did not."

"Tell us about your journey with your powers." Bonnie gathered her dress up as she took a seat at the table. "M'Kenna can share her own history. Many of her stories will involve fish, I am sure."

M'Kenna grinned. "They were lovely companions." She walked to the table then and set a cup in front of each of them.

Lydia wrapped her hands around her teacup and smiled slowly. She sat back in her chair and let out a relieved breath, feeling lighter than she had in months… Maybe even years.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

With Kai and his heretics chained up and out of commission, the rest of the group collected in the study at Mikaelson Manor.

Elena was standing at the window, keeping an eye out for Tyler. "What's taking them so long…?"

"Tyler can handle himself." Alaric sat at the desk, taking apart and cleaning one of his guns. "Just gotta be patient."

"I'm not great at that." With a sigh, she turned to face the others.

Stefan and Caroline were talking in the corner, their faces hovering close, his arm extended above her head, hand planted on the wall. They were whispering, and Caroline's mouth was pressed thin with worry.

"What are you two talking about?" Elena called, loud enough that everybody turned.

Stefan looked up and over at her. He offered a faint, forced smile. "Just a few theories on why the wolves turned."

"Yeah? Care to share?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "We're all supposed to be more honest, right? That's why my brother is locked away in a cellar halfway across town."

"He's locked up because he was talking to Kai behind our backs." Lucy took a step forward, glaring then. "I get he's your family, loyalty's a big thing for me, too. But don't try to downplay what he did. He _knew_ that Kai and his heretics were hunting my family, and he said _nothing_. He fed them information." She stared Elena down. "If it was up to me, I'd feed him to the dogs myself."

"Lucy…" Sheila reached for her elbow.

"No, Aunty. No disrespect, but I won't stand here and listen to her defend that boy."

Elena shook her head. "Jeremy wasn't trying to hurt anyone."

"How would you even _know?_ You found the same time the rest of us did that he was playing both sides. Just because he's your brother doesn't mean he isn't complicit in all of this."

"What about _them?_ " Elena motioned to Stefan and Caroline. "Nobody's pissed that they raised Damon? That he killed all those people? That Bonnie is awake and ready to destroy everybody because they couldn't leave well enough alone?"

"Stop deflecting." Lucy's hands curled into fists. "Just admit that your brother did a screwed up thing and that he's _lucky_ all he got was shoved in a cellar."

Elena pressed her lips flat and glared.

"Do you always fight like this?" Elijah swept into the room, passing a glass of bourbon off to Sheila and Abby. "How do you ever get anything done?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Like you don't have a brother that throws a temper tantrum when things don't go his way…"

He half-smiled. "Touché." He cast his gaze around the group. "My brother's hybrids have informed me that the wolves are no longer stalking the streets. It would appear they've taken to the woods."

"Is that a good thing?" Stefan wondered.

"It minimizes the threat. We'll deal with it when it arises again. For the time being, I think we should discuss what happened earlier." He took a seat on the corner of his desk and clasped his hands. "Bonnie is awake, she still seems to be seeking retribution, and Damon appears to have a lead he's following. What do we plan on doing in the meantime?"

" _We?_ " Alaric stared up at Elijah and then looked past him to the others. "Were you invited into the group? I don't remember voting on that…"

The doors to the study swung open then, crashing against the walls. "Yes, I'd quite like to hear the answer to that as well." Klaus swaggered into the room, his clothing soaked in blood and patchy with burn holes. Soot and dirt lined his face as he grinned. "It was my understanding, _brother_ , that we were working on this little apocalypse problem _together_. Care to clarify?"

Elijah let out a long-suffering sigh.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

" _Ow!"_

"Hold still."

Malia hissed as Damon dabbed iodine on her head. He'd already wiped away the dried blood that had caked her head and down her neck, and was now trying to clean away anything left in the wound. "It _hurts_."

"Barely. It'll only sting for a second." He dabbed it again and then blew cool air on her head. Despite her complaints, it did feel a little better. "See?"

"Yeah, fine. Can we stop now?"

He made a disagreeable noise. "We should probably try to cover it."

" _How?_ "

"It's close to your hairline. We could cut your hair and—"

" _No_."

He sighed. "Fine. But if it gets infected, you'll have no one to blame but yourself." He capped the iodine bottle then and walked around her to lean against the counter. "How's it feel?"

She frowned up at him. "All right, I guess."

"You're just not used to feeling pain. When my kids were little, they'd trip over everything. M'Kenna especially. We used to call her a fish out of water. Bonnie would make these pastes to put on them, helped them heal quicker."

Malia stood from her seat and grabbed a hair elastic to pull her hair up and out of the way. "I'd rather have my healing."

"We'll get it figured out." He shrugged. "Ready? We need to find that church."

"Can we eat first?" She rubbed at her stomach. "I'm _starving_."

Damon's mouth kicked up faintly. "All right. But if the apocalypse happens because you needed a snack, I'm blaming you." He walked past her then and down the hallway to the stairs.

Malia followed after him. "You think they've got any deer? I haven't had deer in months…"

"You know, I can't see Stefan eating deer. Steak, sure. A good pork chop, maybe. Ham or turkey on the holidays, that's a given. I bet Caroline's calling the shots there. She's a planner. She forces him to dress this old place up."

"What about you? Did you guys celebrate anything?"

"Birthdays, anniversaries, that kind of thing." He swung himself into the kitchen and held the door open for her. "The holidays you have now, Christmas and Halloween and all of that, we didn't have those back then." He walked to the fridge to dig around and came out holding a package of hamburger meat and a pack of eggs.

Malia watched as he wandered around the kitchen, grabbing out everything he needed to make a meatloaf.

"Do you think you will?"

"Will what?"

"Celebrate that stuff. Now that Bonnie and M'Kenna are with you. And you're probably hoping you can bring back Dysin and Neci, too. So, you think you'll have big holiday celebrations?"

Damon paused. "You know what, I haven't really thought that far ahead… Ever since Stefan and Caroline dug me up, the only thing I had on my mind was getting Bonnie back. After that, I wasn't sure what would happen. Maybe the whole world blows up, maybe we avert the apocalypse. But after that… I don't know."

"Well, what do you _want_ to happen?"

"Ideally?"

She nodded.

"I'd go back… Back to before it all went to hell. To when we were just a family, living on our hill with our house and our garden. Next to the tree Dysin loved to climb and a short walk from the lake M'Kenna would swim in and the cave Neci would run to when she wanted to think." He stared down into his bowl of ingredients as he mixed them all together. "But that can't happen. They're older now. They've had their own kids."

"You're still a family."

"We are. Always. But things have changed. I can't go back, can't change what happened, can't fix any of it. It just _is_." He swallowed tightly and offered a faint smile. "So, I don't know what comes after this. Maybe Bonnie is done. Maybe she's ready to really rest. We can cross over and be with our kids and our grandkids…"

Malia looked up at him searchingly. "Do _you_ want that?"

He stared back. "I want my wife. And I want to be happy."

She nodded.

Taking a deep breath, he wiped his hands on the dish towel and leaned over to flick the oven on to pre-heat. "What about you, Kid? What do you wanna do when this is over?"

Malia shrugged. "I don't know. Wherever the pack goes, I go."

"You're happy with that?"

"I'm not _un_ happy." Her brow furrowed. "Sometimes I don't know what I want. Or if what I want is the _right_ thing to want…"

"Can't let everybody else decide for you." His brow furrowed. "What about school?"

She shrugged. "I'm not great at school. A lot of it is confusing. I had to do a lot of catch-up after I turned back and, well, when you're constantly fighting something, it's hard to focus on homework."

"Traveling?" he suggested.

"Where would I go?"

"Where do you _want_ to go?"

"I don't know. I've only ever really been to Beacon Hills and here. We didn't have much time for sight-seeing. Lydia was pretty focused on getting here."

Damon crossed his arms over his chest loosely and hummed. "Anything ever excite you? You ever just wanna do something for fun?"

"I like what Braeden does." Her brows hiked and she smiled. "She was a bounty hunter before she started helping us. She's strong and smart and it's always fun when we team up. Plus the motorcycle, I like that."

"Bounty hunting is a good way to use your strength, I guess. There's an option."

Malia looked proud, sitting a little taller in her seat. She paused then. "You think she'll stay after?"

"Who, Braeden?"

"Yeah. Now that she's spent all this time with her family, she might not want to come back to Beacon Hills…"

"Braeden seems like a free spirit to me. She doesn't set down roots anywhere for too long."

Malia nodded, but chewed her lip.

"What's worrying you?"

She glanced at him. "Scott, Lydia and Stiles are in school. They're not like me. They're book smart. And they like it there. Or they did, before everything went weird and we had to come out here…"

"You afraid they'll head back and you'll just be tagging along?"

She nodded. "I'm not always like them. I'm not like anyone, really. My instincts are different. Sometimes… I feel like I'm more animal than human."

"Nothing wrong with that. You fit where you fit."

"What if I don't fit anywhere?"

"Not possible. You just haven't found your place yet. You will." He grabbed up the meatloaf then and stuck it in the oven. Washing his hands off at the sink, he wiped them off and then turned to her again. "Come on… I know there's a map around here somewhere. We'll throw darts at it. Wherever they land, you can road trip there. With or without your pack. There's a whole world out there, you might as well explore it."

Malia grinned as she hopped off her stool and followed him out of the kitchen. "I have another cousin, Derek's sister, Cora. She's in South America. I could visit her!"

"See? There you go."

"There's Isaac too. He's originally part of Derek's pack, but he's also kind of in Scott's pack, too. He's in Paris, I think…"

Damon nodded along as she talked, reminded of M'Kenna and what a chatterbox she could be as a child. Despite the situation they were in, with his wife currently on something of a rampage, and the questionable state of his other children, he was feeling hopeful. Bonnie was alive. M'Kenna, too. Soon enough, he would have answers from his mother on the whereabouts of Neci and Dysin. If things went well, he might have them all back soon enough. It wouldn't be perfect. Far from it. But it was a start. He had no idea where it would lead, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _honestly, my favorite part of this chapter is damon being so damn dad-like with malia. he's over here cleaning up her boo-boos and giving her life advice, lol._

 _next chapter has: damon's mom explaining some neci/dysin related things. kai gets interrogated. braeden is off to see some wolves. klaus is feeling left out of the loop. and bonnie and damon aren't happy with the distance between them..._

 _thank you all so, so much for reading. please leave a review if you can! they keep me writing and motivated!_

 _thanks,_  
 **\- Lee | Fina**


	14. boom

**chapter rating** : teen (coarse language, gore, violence)  
 **word count** : 8,320

* * *

 **xiv.**

"Do we even know what direction we should be going in?" Tyler sighed, walking at the back of the group, kicking at a stray rock. "What are you sniffing for? Wet _dog?_ "

Braeden frowned back at him. "Mad you're just a 'roided up _dick_ when the full moon isn't out?"

He pursed his lips in reply. "I'm just saying… We've been out here a while."

"And you wanna head back. _Shocker_. Nobody's keeping you here. You can turn around anytime."

"Right, because splitting off from this circus wouldn't end in me getting hunted down." He rolled his eyes. "No, thanks."

"Then help or shut up." She bent then, dropping a knee to the ground as she picked up a few cracked twigs. "They came this way. They got excited about something." She pointed to where the dirt was disturbed ahead of them, noticeable claw marks in the ground. "See? They were wrestling."

"For fun? Or were they fighting?" Scott walked over to stand next to her.

"No blood. Looks like they were just having fun." She stood, dusting off her hands. "They're happy she's back."

"They don't even _know_ her." Tyler scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's _instinct_. Kind of like how your instinct is to always argue." She marched ahead, leaving them to follow.

"If they stopped to wrestle, doesn't that mean they're not being forced to go to her?" Scott hurried to catch up to Braeden. "They can't be in much of a hurry if they took time to play."

"It's probably more like they're searching her out to show they're on her side. Damon didn't explain the whole 'controlling' thing too well. All I know is Bonnie can control the magic that's inside of all of you."

"Which could be good or totally terrifying," Stiles said, tripping over a reaching tree leg. He frowned back at it and then turned, to keep walking, only to slam into Scott's back. " _Whoa_. A little head's up next ti— _Holy shit_."

The group had stalled mid-step. Braeden at the front, Scott just to her left. Derek on her right. Stiles stood behind her, with Tyler right behind him. And all around them were wolves, lined up in a perfect circle, penning them in.

They were completely surrounded.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Well, _brother_ , I'm all ears…" Klaus smirked at Elijah from across the room, but the wrinkle atop his brow promised he was more than eager to fight.

"Before you start screaming about betrayal," Elijah said, already sounding exasperated, "the Mother of Magic is awake. Kai and his heretics raised her in the town square. I'm sure you saw the light show."

"Saw it? The streets went _mad_. A good chunk of the werewolf population turned against their will. They were attacking every vampire in sight."

Stefan frowned. " _Just_ vampires?"

"Yes. _Why?_ " Klaus' eyes narrowed suspiciously as they moved over the room. "What did you lot have to do with it anyway?"

"Nothing. We thought when Bonnie woke up, she'd declare war." Elena shrugged. "Not so much."

"So, you went off to fight the creator of magic with some stake guns then…?" Klaus grinned. "Little underwhelming, don't you think?"

"We used what we had. It's not like there's an Amazon wish-list for what you need to take out all-powerful witches." Alaric rolled his eyes as he leaned back in the desk chair. "Considering you've been burning down the town more than putting out fires, I don't think you get to talk."

"On the contrary, I think it's my turn to talk." Klaus' brows arched as he stared at his brother. "Why is it that you're running around with this lot? I don't remember receiving any memo I'd been traded in for the Misfits of Mystic Falls."

"You weren't _traded in_ …" Elijah rolled his eyes as he let out a long sigh. "You've shown little interest in saving the town, Niklaus. I've spoken to you about the prophecy and Damon, and each time you seemed aggrieved that I'd asked you to help. I took it upon myself to seek out more information."

"You mean from the _witch_." His mouth twisted up as he cast his gaze toward Abby, who glared back, not intimidated in the least. "I thought when you called off the engagement some twenty-plus years ago, we'd be _rid_ of her." He walked to the drink cart then and poured himself a glass.

"I'm sorry, _what?_ " Caroline's brows hiked. With a shake of her head, she stared at Abby. "You were engaged to _Elijah Mikaelson?_ How? When? _Why?_ "

"It was a long time ago." Abby shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Can we focus, please? Bonnie is awake and we need a plan. She's got a banshee and her daughter, who, let's be real here, is probably insanely powerful herself. She's a direct descendant of not only Bonnie, but of Damon, too. This girl is just as much a powerhouse as her mother."

"What girl?" Klaus asked, frowning.

"Bonnie resurrected her daughter as well," Elijah informed him.

"Her name is M'Kenna. And she's one of their three children." Sheila stepped forward then. "I think we're missing an obvious piece of the puzzle here. Bonnie used Lydia's abilities to raise her daughter. She _took_ Lydia on purpose."

"You think she's going to wake up her other two kids…" Stefan's brow furrowed. "Why bring them back if she just wants to destroy the world?"

"Haven't you told them yet?" Klaus clapped a hand against Elijah's shoulder. "The prophecy suggested she was coming here to play judge and jury. It doesn't say _who_ she's judging…"

"So what, she's come back to wipe out the humans specifically?" Lucy frowned. "Not unlikely. They _are_ the ones that caused all this in the first place…"

"But she didn't hesitate to wipe out the heretics to bring M'Kenna back."

"Look, none of us want to admit it, but we don't _know_ what she wants." Elena looked around at each of them. "Or what lengths she'll go to get it."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"This place is even creepier at night…" Malia frowned as she looked up at the eerie church, all of its hollows looked especially dark when it was lit only by a waning moon. The door they had left open from their previous visit banged against the wall from the wind.

"You don't like churches?"

"Do _you?_ "

Damon shrugged. "Can't say I've ever worshiped anywhere but at my wife's feet. And I don't think they'd like my technique around here…"

Malia's nose wrinkled.

Climbing up the stairs, Damon waved for her to follow. She stepped inside carefully, toeing at the floor as if she thought it might cave in under her weight.

He walked casually to the end of the aisle while Malia took a seat in an old pew, the wood whining as it resettled.

"I won't be long." He cast his eyes up toward the wooden cross in front of him.

Malia looked from him to the open door. "Should I poke you if someone shows up?"

"You expecting somebody?"

"Things come out at night…" She shifted in her seat. "Things that can't walk around in the day."

He hummed. "I'll know if danger's close, don't worry."

Malia said nothing, chewing on her lip.

He raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

She shrugged.

"I'd bring you along, but I'm pretty sure the ones with the feathers frown on that. Something about not letting mortals near the other realms unless they've got a passport. Which you only get when you die, _so_ …"

"I'll be fine." She sat up a little straighter then and painted on her brave face.

Damon hesitated, but eventually nodded. He trusted her, and he had a time limit in front of him.

Spreading his arms out to the side, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

A single wolf broke from the back and loped forward.

"Stay still," Derek said, his mouth barely moving. "No sudden moves."

"They can smell fear though, can't they?" Stiles' eyes darted in every direction. "'Cause I'm sweating buckets here."

" _Shh_."

Striped in black and white, the wolf made his way toward Braeden. She felt Derek's fingers stretch toward her and brush against her forearm. But a snapping growl in his direction forced him to stop.

Braeden's heart hammered in her chest and echoed in her ears. All she could hear was Grams' voice in her head, telling her to be sure, to be careful, that she was _strong_. A part of her wanted to go back, to tell her that she wasn't always strong. Sometimes she was scared. Terrified, even.

The wolf stepped right up until its paws touched the front of Braeden's boots. It tipped its head back to stare at her with eerily bright eyes, and then it circled around her, sniffing. It knocked its side against the back of her knees, forcing her to walk forward a step. Her arms went out to steady herself and she swallowed down the noise crawling up her throat.

The wolf stepped to her side then and yipped, as if encouraging her. It looked forward and lowered its snout for a moment, before taking another step.

Braeden's brow furrowed. She pushed one boot out and the wolf barked again. "I… I think it wants me to follow."

"This is _crazy_ ," Tyler pointed out. "You have no idea what you're doing. It could _kill_ you."

Braeden shook her head slightly. She took another step forward and the wolf's tongue lolled from its mouth. Feeling a little steadier, she kept walking, until she reached the edge of the ring, where the wolves parted for her.

She turned then, and looked straight at Derek.

He stared back, brow furrowed and jaw tense. He lifted one leg, but a growl stopped him.

"Stay." She nodded encouragingly. "I'll be okay."

His mouth thinned into a line. "You don't know that."

"But I believe it."

He took a deep breath, and let it out on a sigh, before he nodded shortly.

Heart still pounding, Braeden looked back to the wolf, and said, "Okay… Let's go."

The wolf lingered only a moment, and then walked ahead. Slowly, it picking up the pace, forcing Braeden to jog to keep up. She could still hear her Grams' voice in her head, only this time Sheila was telling her she was playing with fire, and she really ought to use her sense more often. She was probably right.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Two visits in less than a week. Should I be flattered?" Polly grinned, turning on her heel to face him. "Don't tell me you've come to lament that I wasn't a better mother. I already told you, it all serves a greater purpose."

"You mean war?"

"I mean justice." Her smile turned brittle. "Why are you here, Damon? You clearly hold me in little regard at the moment."

"Bonnie's back. So is M'Kenna."

"I saw…" She turned her back to him and strolled to a tall-backed chair, sinking down on the seat. She lounged with her hands stacked in her lap. "As I hear it, she's still quite upset about what the humans did. She's seeking recompense."

"When I went to the other side, I asked them for all three of my children. For whatever reason, they only gave me M'Kenna. _Why?_ "

Polly scoffed. "You expect me to know what those feather dusters are up to?"

"You had this all planned out. For thousands of years, you waited. There's no way you haven't considered any obstacle that could get in the way. So _why…?_ Where are Neci and Dysin?"

Her mouth pinched then, and she sighed. "I had no control over it. A deal was made and I had no say."

"What kind of deal?"

"A human—" Her nose wrinkled with distaste, "—he made a deal with one of the angels. You have to realize, at the time, they weren't happy with the decision I made. They thought I was undermining Father's will by giving Bonnie her abilities. If the humans should die and the earth with it, it was fine. He would simply rebuild a better world with better people. I… _interrupted_ that process by giving Bonnie her abilities. She replenished the earth and so the humans survived. Not only the humans, either, because Bonnie went on to have children, magical in their own right. And not just anyone's children. _Your_ children. Half demon. The grandchildren of the _devil_ herself…"

She scoffed and shook her head. "Father's brown-noser's thought it was a _blight_. They didn't like that Bonnie was a woman, that she was the most powerful being to walk the earth. They worried that the magical would become too powerful and they would overcome the world. But it didn't turn out that way. Instead, because humans were so fearful and ignorant, the supernatural went into hiding."

"What does that have to do with Neci and Dysin?"

"You always were impatient." She rolled her eyes. "When you and Bonnie died, you were preserved on earth, you never passed over. The angels could do nothing about that. But your children… They had a choice there. M'Kenna, she died first. Before the deal was struck. I was able to sneak her through, settle her on the Other Side. But Neci and Dysin, they died later, _after_ the deal was struck."

Damon's brows hiked impatiently.

"Angels are biased. They pretend they aren't, but they're liars. Especially back then. And so they let his twisted tongue convince them he was doing them a _service_ by creating another place for the magical. He told them the magical shouldn't rest with the humans, that their spirits should be sent elsewhere. They couldn't send them here, to me, because they hadn't harmed anyone, they didn't fit the qualifications for someone in need of _punishment_ …"

Her mouth turned down at the corners. "But the angels agreed to let him try his hand, if only because they didn't want to deal with the issue anymore. He took Neci and Dysin's spirit and ferreted them away somewhere, an in-between like this. I argued it wasn't right. Once I knew what had happened, I petitioned to have their spirits passed down to me, but they wouldn't allow it. They did agree he wouldn't get anymore magical spirits. They created another world, different from his, but especially for the magical. Despite that, their agreement was still in place. He was allowed to keep Neci and Dysin's spirits. There was nothing to be done about it."

Damon's eyes narrowed. "Who is he?"

Her face darkened and her eyes lit with fire. "Zarius. On his death bed, he called out. He knew where he was headed, right down here, to serve out eternity paying for his sins. The angels were willing to hear his pleas for forgiveness. I told you. They're biased. They listened to dad's speeches about humanity and what good could be found there." She scoffed. "They weren't as jaded as they are now."

Damon's skin turned a mottled black, scaled and fiery. " _Zarius._ The same man who helped _kill_ me, who hunted Bonnie down, has had my children's spirits for _thousands_ of years…"

"He can't harm them, it's against the rules. Well…" She smirked. "For anywhere but here."

He shook his head. "Why? What does he want them for?"

"To _control_ them. So long as they're in his possession, they can never know true peace. He's a zealot, Damon. His actions have no real purpose but his own drive for power."

Dragging a hand over his mouth, he shook his head and tried to breathe through the rage that was building up inside him.

"Oh, if you're going to set fire to something, avoid the drapes. They're new."

He glared. "I want them back."

Polly waved a hand. "You'll have to take it up with the feathered ones."

"If Bonnie finds out about this…" He took a deep breath; when he let it out on a sigh, smoke left his nostrils. "If they were afraid about a magical uproar before, they're about to have a real one. She'll decimate this entire planet."

"And _why_ shouldn't she?" Polly stood from her seat, her back rigid and her chin lifted. "Those are _your_ children, Damon. Your little girl and boy. Don't you remember what Neci was like? How she used to cry on your shoulder that the other people wouldn't like her? That she's a _freak_ and a _monster_. Zarius probably has her locked away somewhere. Her soul left to _rot_ away in a tiny hole. And Dysin! Who loved to be free, to float on the wind like a wingless bird, he's probably chained down, stripped of any freedom he could ever want. Doesn't that hurt you, Damon? Doesn't it burn you up inside that your children—"

Fire burst across his skin and rippled up his face. Every inch of him was black and scaled, his teeth long and sharp. When he spoke, flames danced along his lips. "You think I don't mourn for my children? My hands were the first to hold them. I remember every word they ever spoke, every scrape on every knee and elbow. I couldn't sleep for _weeks_ when they were first born, terrified that something might happen to them if I wasn't watching them every second of every day. I would give my life a thousand times over just to hear their voices again. Do not _speak to me_ about pain! You have spent an eternity down here, sentencing the damned, while I rotted in the ground, hoping that somehow, despite everything, they _survived_. And now you want to tell me that no matter what I did or what I sacrificed, the man who destroyed my family has imprisoned two of my children this _whole_ time."

Polly stared at him, her eyes glittering with feral intensity. "Then _join_ me. Let us destroy every one of them. These humans deserve none of your pity or forgiveness. Your family is owed more than can _ever_ be repaid." She reached for him, unafraid of the fire that rippled off of him, and pressed her hands down on his shoulders. "Bonnie was meant to rule. Her place is at top of the hierarchy. Let her take her throne, and find your own at her side."

Damon stared at her a long moment. Slowly, the fire began to recede and the scales flickered away. "She doesn't want to be a queen. She only ever wanted to be a mom. She was happy with her life, with our house and our kids and _us_. She doesn't want to _rule_ anybody. That isn't who Bonnie is. Just because she could doesn't mean she _will_."

"It's a _waste_. She could be _more_ than that."

Damon tapped her hand aside and stared her down. "Tell me how to get them back."

"You _can't_. Their spirits belong to Zarius."

"Zarius is a _human_. Deal or not, he has no claim to any of these worlds. And you _know_ that." He growled. "You _let_ him keep them because they were a back up plan. If Bonnie got her kids back, she could've been content. She might've let this whole thing go. You couldn't risk that. So you let Zarius keep them because you could throw that at her feet, too. Once she knew, she'd be unstoppable."

Polly bared her teeth at him. " _Good_."

Damon's eyes narrowed. "You think Bonnie's the only one with power around here? I want my kids, _mom_."

She smiled. "You've been out of the game for some time, Damon. You really think you can hold your own against me?"

"If I have to."

She rolled her eyes. "Arrogant, just like your father."

"Funny, I always thought that was a trait I gained from you."

She laughed, light and musical. "Arrogance is for those who think more highly of their accomplishments than what they're worth. I promise you, I've earned every bit of my pride."

He hummed, smiling emptily. "You think you'll be proud of this when it's over?"

She eyed him, a brow raised. "So long as it turns out the way I want, yes, of course."

"Interesting." He turned on his heel and walked down the stairs.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I want you to remember this moment."

She frowned down at him.

He raised his arms out to his sides. "When I hand you Zarius' heart on a silver platter, remember that you were no better than him. You _let_ them stay there. Your own grandchildren. All to serve your greater good." He shook his head. "You _are_ him, Polly."

Her eyes widened then, but before she could rebut, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was back in the church, with a half-asleep Malia dozing in a pew.

She startled as he dropped his arms and birds flew down from the beams above. "Wha…?"

"It's late. We should go."

Rubbing at her eyes, Malia pushed up, yawning so wide her jaw cracked. "Where?"

"I'll drop you off at the boarding house, you can get some sleep."

"What? _No_. Where are you going?"

"To find Bonnie."

" _Oh_. Well, I'll come with. She's probably got Lydia with her still. I need to know she's okay."

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow at her. "You're falling asleep on your feet, Kid."

"I'm _fine_." She stared up at him, her face set, and Damon sighed.

With a nod, he motioned for her to walk ahead.

Malia grinned, satisfied, and marched forward.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Kai rattled the chains currently stringing him up, hanging from the ceiling to keep him captive. He had no idea where the rest of his coven was. He presumed they were in a similar state in some other room. From what he could tell, the Mikaleson Mansion had no shortage of rooms. Maybe each coven member had their own. Or maybe he was special. He preferred that.

It was Grandmama Witch that walked in to face him first. He could hear the muffled arguing going on above him, but it had died down some ten minutes ago.

As she walked toward him, her eyebrows arched and her mouth pinched in that severe way that was supposed to put fear in his itty, bitty, black heart.

"Let me guess, a little torture is going to turn that frown _upside down_ …"

Her eyes narrowed. "I have questions."

"And you're hoping I have answers?"

"I _know_ you do."

"Is this about Mother Dearest? Because I thought we were all on the same resurrection bus. I mean, different end goals, sure. But you wanted her bright eyed and bushy tailed, too. Right?"

"Jeremy Gilbert."

He blinked. "You've lost me."

"He called you. He told you where to find me and mine… That we had Bonnie."

"He told me the witches were acting strange and I should keep an eye out for them."

Sheila nodded, and began to circle him, forcing him to turn and crane his head to try and keep his eyes on her. "How long were you two in cahoots?"

"That is a _great_ word. _Cahoots_. That should really come back in fashion. It's too bad the world is going to end, or I'd definitely use it more." He hummed, looking dramatically disappointed.

Sheila waved a hand and Kai cried out as his brain started to pop, tiny aneurysms exploding inside. His eyes rolled back in his head and a trickle of blood slipped from his nose to stain his lips.

Sheila stopped in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. "Why did you target my daughter, Kai? Why was your coven chasing them all over town, burning them out of their homes?"

He grinned, his teeth dripping with his own blood. His head fell back as he began to laugh. And then he swung himself forward on his chains, even as they tore into his wrists and the hooks, planted through his skin, pulled and ripped. "Honestly…? We were _bored_."

Sheila blinked, surprised.

"There's only so much we can do around here before blowing things up and eating the locals loses it's shine. Besides, they threw the first punch. They interrupted dinner and Abby had to go and kill one of my heretics. It was _rude_. We _had_ to retaliate." He grinned at her, completely amused. "After that, it was just for _funsies_ …"

"How did you know where they were?"

" _Please!_ It was a tracking spell. My coven is _huge_. Or it was, before they all went belly up to bring back Mom. All you had were four little witches trying to push back _hundreds_. We could've found you in our sleep."

"And Jeremy?"

"He's been playing Hunter for weeks, picking off my coven whenever he got a chance. He stole a phone off one of the bodies, called me, told me to keep an eye out for you. It's not hard to put two and two together. He weighed his options and decided we were the lesser of two evils." He shrugged. "Sure, he didn't say it, but we figured it out. He wanted us to drain her, wipe her out and eliminate the threat. Poor little misguided _idiot_. Why waste all of that potential?"

Sheila took a step back, her eyes turned away as she turned that new information over in her mind.

Kai stared at her searchingly. "I felt it, you know… Her _power_." He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering closed. "It was intoxicating."

Pressing her mouth flat, she shook her head at him. "What do you think is going to happen? If she wipes us all out, you go too."

"I'm a survivalist. Always have been. But if I had to go, why not bite it knowing I had a hand in the apocalypse? I mean, for the short time we're all still here, at least I get a slice of infamy."

Sheila scoffed, and the doors behind her opened. "I heard all I need to. He's all yours."

Stefan walked forward, a few people behind him. "He tell you anything interesting?"

"He's just a power-hungry sociopath." She turned away from Kai to face Stefan. "It wouldn't be right, telling you to make him pay for what he did to my family… I don't relish violence."

"So don't say anything." Stefan's arms crossed. "We'll read between the lines."

The three people that banked him stepped forward, grinning.

"Kai, this is Carlos, Jennifer and Chin. A few of your heretics killed friends of theirs. They wanted to meet you personally…"

Kai's gaze bounced between everybody. "My condolences."

Sheila walked to the doors.

"Hey, Grandma," Kai called after her.

She paused, and looked back, an eyebrow raised in question.

"She's not like me. She's not a siphon. We _take_ magic. Absorb it. That's just our nature. But _her?_ She's had magic pumped into her for centuries. She wasn't made for that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He grinned. " _Boom_."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Braeden wasn't sure what she expected, but a tiny house tucked away in the middle of the forest wasn't it. The wolf led her right up to the clearing, but took a seat in the overgrown grass rather than trek closer. Braeden stopped with it, not sure if she was supposed to walk up and ring the doorbell or wait.

From what she could tell, there were lights on inside. But why a wolf would lead her to some random family, she didn't know.

The door swung open then, and a woman stepped out onto the porch.

Braeden's breath caught.

Bonnie was beautiful; she'd seen that first hand. But now, there was something about her that left Braeden in awe. There was a presence to her. The same kind that Grams had when Braeden was a little girl and she would look up at Sheila would stars in her eyes.

A nudge at Braeden's hip told her to step forward, and she let it propel her, one foot after the other. Her tongue felt too heavy in her mouth, and she found herself wishing her Grams was there. She, at least, would know what to say. Braeden was a fighter. A do-er. She wasn't a peacemaker.

Bonnie seemed to float down the stairs and across the leaf-covered ground toward her. The dress she wore was black, with an intricate floral pattern imprinted across it. It wasn't until she walked closer that Braeden realized it wasn't the fabric, but real flowers that made up Bonnie's dress, tiny green vines slithering around, knitting them together and wrapping themselves around Bonnie's legs and arms. It gave new meaning to 'at one with nature.'

"Hi," she blurted, when Bonnie was in reach, and cursed her inability to come up with something a little more formal. "I'm Braeden Bennett."

Bonnie came to a stop just short of Braeden, and looked past her shoulder to the waiting wolf. She nodded to it, and Braeden heard the retreat of its padding paws a moment later.

"You took a risk, Braeden, wandering the woods this late at night. Especially when you know what danger lives in them."

She clenched her teeth briefly. "I had a duty."

"To Lydia or to your grandmother?" Bonnie stared at her searchingly. "Or perhaps, to yourself."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is 'all of the above' available?"

Bonnie's lips curled faintly. "Lydia is unharmed. She is asleep inside. Her powers are draining. She has not slept well in some time."

"Yeah." Braeden scoffed. "Try _years_."

"She's young, and she fears her powers. They rebel, try to force her to adapt. She will learn."

"I wouldn't know. I'm human."

"No."

"Excuse me?" Braeden frowned. "I think I'd know."

"You have power in you. A spark of magic, hidden deep inside." Bonnie reached out and tapped a finger against Braeden's chest, where her heart lay. "Dim, but there. All it needs is a little _push.._." She raised her eyes to meet Braeden's once more. "Would you like that?"

"Y'know, I feel like I'm getting asked that a lot lately. I'm _human_. I come from witches, and I love my family, but I'm not them. I'm my own person."

"Yes. You are. But there is still an emptiness. A wanting for what you feel is missing."

"I'm not broken." Her chin jutted out defensively.

"I didn't say you were." Bonnie tipped her head curiously. "Lydia hides from her powers. Wishes them away because they hurt. Because she fears the day she might feel another loved one leave this plane. It's an honest fear. One I can relate to. You don't fear much… Isolation. Abandonment. The idea that you might be _less than_."

Braeden swallowed tightly and folded her fingers into her palms, squeezing her hands into fists.

"Fear offers you little. If you let it control you, it will guide you places you need not go." Bonnie reached up and tucked Braeden's hair back from her cheek. "Conquer it, and you will know strength you never knew you possessed."

"I'm not like them. I _can't_ be."

"You needn't be anyone but yourself." Bonnie curled a finger under Braeden's chin and lifted it. "Family does not rely on magic. Yours loves you. That is all you need to know."

"The Bennetts… They're known for how powerful they are. Everybody comes to my family because they know that if something needs to get done, the Bennetts will make that happen. I…" Her voice caught and she swallowed down the lump building in her throat. "I'm the broken link."

"There are no broken links. Each person brings to a family their own unique traits. In my family, Neci learned to be courageous. To face her fears and the fear of others. M'Kenna believed in equality. That no person was greater than any other. And Dysin shared his knowledge, eager to teach others everything that he had learned."

"And Damon?"

"He was our protector. Our strength when we felt scared or weak." She shook her head. "Having courage does not mean to never fear. It means to stand up _despite_ your fear." She took Braeden's hands and squeezed. "We all have fear in us. We all have moments where we think we are not enough. The important thing is knowing that those fears cannot define us unless we _let_ them."

"I don't know how to be anything but human."

"Then be a spectacular human."

She smiled. "Doesn't hurt to try, I guess."

Bonnie smiled too. "Would you like to see your friend? Lydia is sleeping upstairs. I will ask you not to wake her. She needs this rest."

"I just want to check on her. See her for myself."

"Of course." She released one hand to wave toward the house. "M'Kenna is inside, too. I am sure she would like to meet you."

Braeden nodded. She took a step forward, but stopped, and turned back. " _Thank you_."

Bonnie stared back at her a beat, and then smiled. She released Braeden's hand and watched her make her way up to the house.

"I see you're making friends with the Bennetts… Why am I not surprised?"

Bonnie's gaze fell to the ground, briefly, before she turned. "Damon."

"In the flesh." He forced a smile. "You weren't too hard to track down… Can't tell if that was on purpose or not."

Bonnie tipped her head, an eyebrow raised. "You think it was an invitation?"

"A guy can hope." Damon looked back, over his shoulder, and nodded at Malia to walk ahead. "Go see Braeden and Lydia. I'll get you when it's time to go."

Malia looked from him to Bonnie, waiting on her go-ahead.

Bonnie tilted her chin down, just once, and Malia took her cue, hurrying ahead to the house.

Left alone once more, Damon turned back to Bonnie. In a flash, he was in front of her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body. Staring down at her, he searched her face. "We need to talk."

"If I remember correctly, you were a man more of action than words…"

His mouth curled up slowly, and he reached for her, a hand winding around her waist and pulling her toward him until their chests met and flattened together. "When things aren't so hectic, I'll be happy to prove you right… But we've got some serious business to get out of the way first."

Bonnie reached up and dragged a fingertip along the arch of his cheek. "I missed the sound of your voice… Where I was, I could hear you, a drum in my ears… But it wasn't the same." She looked away and frowned. "I fear if I close my eyes too long, I will return there. Alone. _Haunted_."

" _Shh_ …" He stroked her hair back from her face and feathered his fingers down her neck. "You never have to go back. All right? We're free now." His hand slid down to her chest. "You feel that? That's air. You're breathing. Your heart is _beating_. Okay?"

She looked up at him, her eyes damp. "It is not over. I may not be there, but a piece of that place lives in me. Like teeth, it gnaws away at my soul."

"So I'll find a really good dentist to tear those suckers out. Bonnie, listen to me…" He cupped her face. "I know you're angry. I know you want someone to pay for what happened to us—"

Her eyes lit with a bright green glow and she grit her teeth. "It wasn't right."

"No, it wasn't. But we have to be careful about this. We have to think this through…"

"Death is what I was given, and Death is what I'm _owed_."

"You think I don't want to tear people's heads off? I've killed my fair share since I've woken up, I can admit that. When I breathed air again for the first time in _centuries_ , a part of me was ready to paint this whole damn earth in red. It still does!" He laughed, his eyes wide. "But that's not going to solve what's going on here. That's not going to make any of it better." He licked his lips and shook his head. "We _lost_. They caught us, they killed us, they left us to rot. And despite _everything_ , here we are. We've got another chance. I don't know how long it'll last. But I do know this…

"I _love_ you. I've loved you from the moment I met you. _Really_ met you. I would do _anything_ for you, without question. Because you are everything good in any world, and I know this, at the core of my being. When I was lost, when I didn't know who I was or what I had to offer, I met you, and I found a purpose. Loving you and our children is the greatest thing I have ever done, and I wouldn't trade one _second_ of it. Which is why I'm asking you, _please_ , trust me… We can do this, together. We can make some small part of this better."

"I want to." Tears trembled in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. "But I can feel it. I can feel _rage_ …" Her voice quaked, thick with emotion. "I can feel hatred chewing at my insides. And I cannot forgive them. I cannot let their actions pass." She shook her head. "He has them, Damon. Neci and Dysin. He _has_ them."

Damon took a deep breath. "Zarius."

Her brow furrowed.

"I spoke to Mother. He made a deal with a few asshole angels and they created a… _world_. Not heaven and not hell, some in-between space. It was meant to be for all magical beings, but Mom stepped in and they were forced to stop. The deal is still in place, though. He gets to keep them."

" _No_."

Damon nodded. "I know. We'll get them back. I promise. But—"

"I will have my children." A gust of wind whistled through the trees. "And my vengeance, too."

With that, she disappeared. The house blinked out of existence, leaving behind an overgrown thicket of ivy. And standing in front of it was a confused Braeden and Malia.

Damon let out a long sigh. "That went well."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Caroline wasn't sure when she was invited to join in the witches only group talk, but she soon found herself standing in a room with Abby, Sheila, and Lucy. "Uh… Did something happen?"

Leaning against a wall, Lucy shrugged. "She talked to Kai."

"Okay…" Caroline frowned. "Well, what'd he say?"

"His usual psychotic rhetoric." Sheila sighed. "With a few insightful tidbits about Jeremy Gilbert."

"Snitch," Lucy muttered under her breath.

"I won't argue that, but the circumstances aren't as cut and dry as I first thought." Sheila waved Lucy's confused look off, clearly deciding it was a topic they would discuss later. "No, that's not the important part."

"What is then?"

"You remember when Klaus said that the prophecy never named who Bonnie would judge?"

"Sure."

"He thinks the apocalypse is coming for the humans. And we've been operating on the assumption that Bonnie will have a _say_ in who lives and who dies. But what if she doesn't?"

Caroline walked forward, her brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't she?"

"The ley lines have been feeding power into Bonnie since the moment she died. It's part of what's kept her from passing over all this time. Try to imagine how much power that would take. We've all said that she is the most magical being on earth, but what if it's more than that?"

Lucy's eyes widened and she pushed off the wall. "Magic needs balance."

"Right." Sheila nodded at her. "If one person has an abundance of it, it can hurt them more than help them."

Abby nodded. "Like Expression."

"Exactly." Sheila's mouth thinned. "If her powers get to be too great, they could consume her, and the rest of us with her."

Lucy rubbed a hand over her forehead. "Bonnie isn't here to bring the apocalypse…"

Caroline swallowed. "No. Because she _is_ the apocalypse."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"Where are we going?" Braeden frowned as she hurried to keep pace with Damon and Malia. "And where the hell did the house go?"

"Bonnie was done talking, so she left, and she took the house with her. You know, if I wasn't so sure my marriage was rock solid, I'd make a 'she got the house in the divorce' joke."

"Rock solid?" Braeden snorted. "Then why aren't you _with_ her?"

"Currently, we have different end goals. It's a classic case of miscommunication."

"Uh-huh. Is that miscommunication that she wants to wipe us out and you're hoping she'll be more selective or…?"

"More or less." He shrugged. "Look, it's _complicated_. She has a good reason for doing what she does."

"Oh, I get holding a grudge against the people that killed you. But those people are _long dead_. I know forgiveness can be a process, but she's gonna have to speed hers up."

"Thanks for the tip." He rolled his eyes. "I'll pass it on."

Malia looked over at him, her brow furrowed. "Did you tell her about Zarius?"

"She already knew. I don't know how. We didn't get that far. But she's hellbent on getting our kids back."

"Well, that's not a bad thing, right? You want them back, too."

"Yes, but there's a protocol to these things. She can't just storm the Other Side and start making demands. Angels are dicks. They have rules in place. You have to ask the right person on the right day in just the right way or you spend an eternity rotting in damnation…"

"Okay… Then how were you going to handle it?"

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, how do you plan on getting your kids back?"

He frowned. "I know people. With wings. Or clipped wings. It's been a while. They weren't the 'tow the line' types. They could've been tossed for all I know."

"Where do they go then?"

"Depends. Some are sent to Earth to live as humans, others turn demon, take up a job in hell with mom." He waved a dismissive hand. It really depends on just how bad they screwed up."

Malia nodded. "So, how do you find them? Another church?"

"Not quite."

Before she could ask more questions, they came upon a ring of wolves, circling a pack of familiar faces.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"You guys lose a Bennett recently? I hear they're in high demand these days…"

Scott, Tyler, Stiles, and Derek turned toward Damon's voice.

"Malia!"

"Braeden!"

"You're okay." Scott breathed a sigh of relief. He took a step forward, but a warning growl forced him to stop.

Damon took a look around, and then walked ahead.

" _Don't_."

They all started waving at him, voices doubling over each other to warn him off. But Damon rolled his eyes and kept walking. The wolves parted for him, and he scratched one behind the ear. "Calm down. They're fine."

The boys all exchanged a look, and then Scott carefully stretched a leg out. When he wasn't met with more growling, he inched forward a little more. Slowly, he made his way toward them, and smiled tiredly at Malia.

"I saw Lydia." She nodded as he looked up at her, brows hiked. "She's okay. _Well_ , she was sleeping, but she looked fine."

"Where was she?"

"Still with Bonnie."

Braeden piped up then, "She's training her. Helping her with her banshee powers so they won't hurt her anymore."

Scott's brow furrowed. He looked between them. "She was really okay?"

"She was fine." Braeden nodded. "I don't know how all of this is gonna turn out, but if you want my honest opinion… I think she's okay with Bonnie."

A distant howl tore through the night then, and the wolf ring broke apart. They ran off toward the trees, disappearing into their depths.

"You should head back to town." Damon frowned as he cast his eyes around. "The wolves aren't the only things out here."

Braeden gave a short nod, and walked over to meet Derek, who pulled her into a hug and buried his face against her neck. "You're okay?"

She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "C'mon… I'll tell you all about it on the walk back."

He let go of her, pausing to press a kiss to her forehead, and took her head.

As they walked ahead, Tyler lingered a moment, looking back at the others. Eventually, he walked off after Braeden and Derek, clearly eager to leave.

Scott turned to Damon. "You know her better than any of us… Do _you_ think Lydia's safe with your wife?"

Damon didn't hesitate. "She's safe."

Scott stared at him a long second, and then nodded. "Okay."

" _Okay?_! Scott." Stiles stared at him searchingly. "You're gonna take his word for it?"

"Not just his. I trust Braeden and Malia. If they say she's okay…"

Stiles shook his head, his leg jittering nervously.

Another howl went up, closer this time.

Damon pressed a hand to Malia's shoulder. "We should go."

She nodded.

"You're going with him again?" Stiles stared at her, brow knit. "Malia… Think about this."

"I am. I know what I'm doing." She smiled. "I'll be fine."

Stiles looked between her and Scott, who shrugged.

" _Great_."

Damon tucked a hand under Malia's elbow, and before Stiles could offer anymore, they were gone.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Malia yawned as they walked through the boarding house, scrubbing a hand over her eyes. She slumped down on a couch and pulled her legs up under her. "Hey… You never said how you were gonna talk to those angel friends of yours."

"Friend is a stretch. We were… acquaintances." He shrugged, and waved a hand toward the fireplace, lighting it effortlessly.

"How does a demon and an angel even _meet?_ Can angels just visit hell whenever they feel like it?"

" _Technically_ , my mother was a fallen angel when she had me. She wasn't quite the devil… Yet. It's complicated."

"Okay…" She squinted at him as she turned over on the couch and stretched her legs out to the end. "Still doesn't answer my question."

Damon sighed. "We might have a common family member."

Malia blinked. "You're related?"

"She's my sister."

"Your sister… is an _angel?_ "

" _Half_ -sister, and yes. Last I checked."

Through another yawn, Malia shook her head. She wiggled herself around to get more comfortable and mumbled, "And I thought _my_ family was complicated…"

Damon snorted. He stood by the fire for a while, just watching it dance. " _Briathos_. The Angel that Thwarts Demons, that's what they called her… You can imagine it didn't help that she had a demon for a brother. But Bri didn't care what anyone said. She had her own set of rules."

Malia hummed.

"She visited once, before everything went sideways. Just dropped in to see what her wayward little brother was up to… I could feel it. That disturbance when someone that shouldn't be here _is_ … I was at the lake with M'Kenna. So I grabbed her up and I ran home. I found Bri with Neci in her lap. They'd closed all the curtains and Bri was showing Neci how to make shadow puppets." He swallowed and shook his head. "She stayed the whole day. Went swimming with M'Kenna and climbed trees with Dysin. She gardened with Bonnie and sat down to dinner with us. And at bedtime, she told the children stories until they fell asleep. Before she left, she told me I was lucky. That she was happy for me… I never saw her again."

Malia took a deep breath and let it out on a sleepy sigh. "Will she help?" she mumbled.

Damon blinked, and turned toward her. With a faint smile, he walked to the couch. He reached for the blanket hanging over the back and draped it over Malia's form. "If she doesn't, we'll figure something else out. Get some sleep, Kid. We've got another busy day tomorrow."

She hummed faintly, and sunk quickly into sleep.

He let out a faint, amused laugh, and then walked to an adjacent armchair. Leaning back, he stared at the fire once more, and tried to wrap his head around everything that had happened that day. In that moment, even he felt exhausted with it. He was ready to close his eyes and sink into a light sleep. But just as he let himself relax, he felt it.

A blade against his throat.

Damon's eyes shot open.

"Not a lot can kill you. Wooden stakes and bullets, those work on vampires just fine. But you're different." Jeremy pressed the knife against Damon's neck just a little harder. "But they used a knife to carve your heart out. So you _do_ have a weakness."

"Besides my wife? Very few."

"One slice, that's all it would take. One good pull and your neck is done, and all of this is over."

"Is it? Sounds to me like you'd be making another problem for yourself. Trust me, my wife is currently on a revenge kick. You don't want your name on her list."

Jeremy's fingers flexed on the handle, and a thin dribble of blood seeped from Damon's neck. "See? I knew it."

"Think this through, Jeremy."

"I am… I'm trying to."

"Your instincts are going crazy. That hunter gene, whatever mess that is, it's got your head mixed up. You've gotta push past that voice and really focus. Ask yourself something… Do you really want to do this?"

Damon could hear a clock somewhere in the house. Each 'tick' seemed louder than the last, like a hammer hitting a nail, closing an impending coffin door. A bead of sweat formed on the nape of his neck. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't go back down into the earth. He couldn't spend anymore time trapped, waiting to be revived. He couldn't.

"So?" His brows hiked. "What's it gonna be, Jer?"

The knife steadied at his neck; a decision made.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **notes** :

 **1)** _sorry this is so late. i've been bogged down with things, and this chapter felt particularly difficult to write and edit. there's just so much going on and it all got jumbled around for a while, so i hope it doesn't read as disorganized as it felt when i wrote it. :/_

 **2)** _i've recently added a tip jar to my tumblr ( **sarcasticfina** ). there's a blue box with a link to a site called ko-fi where you can, essentially, 'buy an author a cup of coffee' to thank them for their fic writing endeavors. please know there is no pressure to do this. fic will continue to be free and all too abundant. HOWEVER, i, personally, would really appreciate it if those of you who **can** would drop a little something there. there's no set amount you have to pay. give as live or as much as you like. every little bit helps. i'm currently trying to save up for a new computer, since my sad excuse for a laptop is dying a slow death on me. there's some buttons that have just given up and she shuts down whenever she feels like it, and occasionally decides to stay off for periods of time, at her leisure. as i said, this is not in exchange of fic. i'll continue to write and post as often as i can. but as a student with climbing debt and stress, it'd be nice if there was a little something to off-set that. _

_thank you all for reading. it means a lot to me that've enjoyed this story. i've received a number or private messages lately asking about updates on other stories, and i'd just like to reiterate that i'm only going to be working on this story until it's finished. after that, i'm hoping to turn my focus to 'til eternity._

 _thanks again. please try to leave a review!_

\- **Lee | Fina**


	15. debt

**chapter** **rating** : teen/pg-13  
 **word count** : 6,635

* * *

 **xv.**

The knife fell abruptly, and slid down Damon's chest to land loose and unoffending in his lap. Damon exhaled, steady despite the hitch in his heart. For just a second, he'd flashed to the past, to the blade pressed up against Bonnie's throat as they shoved him down to his knees. But Jeremy had paused, and then stopped.

"Smarter than you look, Gilbert." Damon was on his feet in a flash. He grabbed Jeremy by the front of his shirt and had him up against a wall. Eyes lit with fire, he bit out, "You're making me regret keeping you alive… I have enough regrets. I don't need you hanging over my head, too."

Jeremy choked, the pressure of his chest making it difficult to breathe. "'s the hunter's curse," he sputtered.

Damon's brow furrowed. "What about it?"

"Don't know… what it's… _like_." His head fell back, neck strained, as he shifted, trying to get away from the weight against his lungs. Pointlessly, he pulled at Damon's immoveable wrist. "It's in my head… _always_ … Used to be able to control it… But ever since… the town's been overrun…"

Nodding, Damon motioned with his other hand to hurry it up. "Yeah, yeah, you've got some annoying little voice in your head telling you to kill every vampire in sight."

"Not just vampires."

Frowning now, Damon released him, and watched as he fell, gasping for air and rubbing at his chest. "Say again?"

"It's not just… vampires." He was panting, and more than a little red-faced, but Jeremy pushed back up to stand and face Damon properly. "It's _everything_. Witches, werewolves, anything with magic in them… When the curse first started, it was only bloodsuckers. Since my sister was one, I had to get that under control, and I _did_. It wasn't easy, but I did. But when this whole apocalypse was triggered, so was I. Suddenly everything magical was on my target list. I don't know if it's just because there's so many of them or what, but it's always there. I've tried to keep it at bay, hunting down vamps and killing off Kai's heretics. But the stronger the magical force, the more a part of me just _hates_ it. No reason, it just _does_."

"Uh-huh… So, you thought you'd go big or go home and take me out?"

"I wanted to. Just being near you makes my skin crawl." Jeremy shook his head. "But I've got your memories on repeat in my brain. I can still remember what it felt like to hold Dysin when he was born. I remember the sound of M'Kenna laughter and Neci's voice. And if I try and focus on that, if I block everything out and just think about that, it fades a little. Enough that I can _think_ again."

"And what are you trying to think _about_?"

Jeremy stared up at him, his mouth set in a frown. "What you said before, about this being my history too, that I've got magic in me, you're right… Look, I don't know why my magic is rebelling, why it makes me want to hunt everyone, but it does. And I don't want it to. I want to be normal again. I want to be able to hug my sister without thinking of three different ways I could kill her. But more than that, I want this magic to _mean_ something. The whole damn world could blow tomorrow, and the only legacy I'm leaving behind is one chock full of betrayal."

"Yeah, I can't guarantee the Bennetts won't string you up next time they see you…" He raised an eyebrow. "They wouldn't be wrong, either."

"No, they wouldn't. Look, I was tracking Kai's heretics to kill them, not because I'm on their side. When I realized the witches were getting together for something, I knew it had to do with raising Bonnie. The hunter in me couldn't let that happen, so I made a decision. A _bad_ one. I used a phone I jacked off one of Kai's heretics to get in touch with him. I told him I thought the Bennetts were making a move and he should do something about it. I didn't think he'd steal the body. I thought they'd be too power-hungry to think of that. All that power, right there for the taking. If they drained her, maybe all of this could end. It was short-sighted, I know that now. I can't change what I did, but I won't do it again."

Damon's eyes narrowed. "Does that include trying to slit _my_ throat, or…?"

"Your magic is getting stronger, it triggered my hunting instinct." His mouth screwed him and his nose wrinkled. "You _stink_ of magic."

"Really? I thought I'd smell more like brimstone and ash." He looked down at himself. "I recently vacayed in Hell. Mom got new drapes. They're nice."

Jeremy blinked at him. " _Okay_ …"

"Look, I don't know much about the hunter's gene. Just whatever Stefan's picked up. But I do know that you can only blame so much of your actions on someone else. So, if you want to play the victim card, go ahead, but there's no free passes here. Pull your weight or I'll make you demon chow. Deal?"

Jeremy frowned, but nodded. "Deal."

"Great. _Now_ … you interrupted my slow descent into beauty sleep, so I'm gonna go Goldilocks my way around upstairs and find a place to rest up. Tomorrow promises to be even more exhausting than today." He pushed past him then, and walked around the couch. Picking Malia up in one easy swoop, he started for the hall. "Sleep tight, don't the let the bed bugs bite."

"I'm not staying. I have somewhere else to be." Jeremy followed him out and then split directions to head for the door, where he paused. "Hey… Can I ask you something?"

Damon looked back at him, one leg lifted onto a stair. "What?"

"What happens if you fix it? If you stop the apocalypse and save the world…? Where do you go after?"

Staring back at him a beat, Damon shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine."

With a hum, Jeremy nodded, and then he turned, and walked out the door.

Malia shifted in Damon's arms and frowned in her sleep. "Five more minutes," she mumbled.

Damon's mouth hitched up, amused. "Sleep all you want, Kid. You're gonna need your rest."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Bonnie's hands were shaking. She sat on the corner of a bed, staring down at them, a vibration flowing throughout her body, from her head down to her toes. She could feel her bones and her veins and every hair follicle on her person. She could feel the blood pumping inside of her, the opening and closing of each valve of her heart. More than herself, she could feel it in everything else, too. She could feel the life force of every living thing around her. The flowers in the forest bed, their petals closed tight. Droplets of dew sliding down blades of green grass. A crow, perched high on the porch; watching, seeing, guarding. Lydia's power; pulsing inside of her, a shadow creeping ever stronger, threatening to consume or liberate. The wolves; panting, running, circling the woods, patrolling and protecting. And Damon, far in the distance, at rest now, safe for the time being. She could feel all of it, and it was simultaneously exhausting and invigorating. A combination that left her a little frightened, if she were being honest.

"You're extending yourself too far…" M'Kenna stepped into the bedroom and circled the bed to take a seat next to her mother. She reached out and covered one of Bonnie's hands with her own. "It was a risk, moving the house like that. All to make a statement."

"Your father used to be the theatrical one…" Bonnie pursed her lips. "I had to make it clear to him that I would not be argued with. He cannot change my mind on this. We must return your brother and sister to this plane."

M'Kenna hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "And if we cannot?"

She turned to look at her, her brow furrowed. "You doubt me?"

"I doubt many things…" M'Kenna smiled faintly. "Never you."

"Then what?"

"The world. That it might give us our justice." M'Kenna stared at her searchingly. "I cried for you every day for a year. I felt it, the moment your soul was torn from you. I knew when you died. _How_ you died. And that you were thinking of me, of all of us, when you were taken."

Bonnie reached for M'Kenna, and cupped her face lovingly. "I'm so sorry. That you had to run, that you lived in fear and sadness… That you felt what I felt."

"I still do. I feel your rage, your hatred, your _loneliness_ … Even with us here, even having father back, a part of you is still lost to that side."

"I lingered there for so long, I didn't think I would ever return. I never thought I would see you again." She rubbed her thumbs along M'Kenna's cheeks. "You are so beautiful… even more than I imagined."

"Well, _you_ are just as beautiful as I remember."

Bonnie laughed, but her eyes stung with tears. "I missed you. Every day, I missed you."

M'Kenna nodded. "And I you."

"I cannot make the hurt end. I cannot douse the fire of my anger. Not yet. Not until I know that our justice has been found."

"Momma… what if vengeance is not what we need?"

Bonnie raised her chin. "I suppose we will find out."

M'Kenna sighed, and nodded in deference.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

It was late. Well past two in the morning, and most of Mikaelson Mansion had gone to bed, including the Bennetts. All but Lucy. Her nerves were too shot for that. Instead, she was patrolling through the overindulgent house, keeping an eye out for any number of enemies that could try to make a move while they were vulnerable.

Lucy wouldn't call it curiosity, exactly, that had her walking down to the room Kai was being held in. A wariness was flooding through her. While his powers were effectively shut down, there were ways around every spell and curse, and given the current situation, she wouldn't be surprised if he'd done just that.

The other heretics were still strung up and passed out, she'd walked past the rooms they were hid away in before directing her feet toward Kai.

She was nearly there when she heard a noise. A _thud_. She whirled around, eyes wide and darting in every direction.

But there was nothing. She was alone.

Or that was what it _looked_ like.

A chill ran up her spine and a whoosh of air rushed past on her left side. She turned with it, her mind running almost too quickly to grab onto anything concrete. A revealing spell, that was what she needed. But before her lips could form around a word, a hand was around her throat, and she was pinned to a wall.

The charm covering her attacker slowly fell away; like liquid, it revealed parts of him at a time. Silver blonde hair, one blue eye and one brown, with skin like marble and a ring around his lower lip. He raised a finger to his mouth and stared her down. " _Shhh_ …"

His grip on her throat kept her from breathing, let alone speaking.

Lucy's legs kicked out as her lungs seized, but he hardly noticed, instead turning to see Kai step out of the room he was kept in, pulling on a suit jacket over his torn shirt, blood dripping from various open wounds on his chest and neck.

Behind him, a woman appeared, dripping into existence, like paint sliding down the canvas of her body to reveal them to her eyes. Tall, Asian, with short, choppy blue hair and killer boots on, spiked heel _tap-tap-tapping_ as she walked. "What about the others?" she wondered.

Kai fiddled with his collar. "Leave them. We have work to do."

"And her?" The man in front of Lucy turned back to face her, an eyebrow arched. "I like her. She's _spunky_."

Lucy bared her teeth at him, even as she felt her face darken, a lack of air making her woozy.

"Kill her. She's a liability."

The man tisked, disappointed.

Eyes rolling, the Asian woman snapped, " _Wyatt_."

Mouth pursed, Wyatt returned, just as sharply, " _Thea_."

Blowing out an exasperated sigh, Thea checked the watch on her wrist. "We've been here too long already. Let's _go_."

Wyatt pursed his lips and gazed at Lucy a beat longer. "Fine," he said, light and airy. His fingers were anything but, digging hard into her throat.

Lucy fumbled a hand against her hip, for the gun clipped to her belt. Regular bullets instead of the wooden ones Alaric had in overwhelming supply. She couldn't get the cover to unclip, and so she turned it upward, still pressed to her side, and dug her finger down until it reached the trigger. Just as her vision was growing black, she squeezed.

The bullet hit Wyatt center in the stomach, but it was the noise that mattered. With it, the lights blinked on, and the house came to life.

Kai and his saviors each turned to each other, cursed, and then abruptly turned tail and ran.

Gasping for air, Lucy sunk down to the floor, a shaking hand pressed to her neck. Panic made it harder to draw a breath and blood rushed in her ears. Tears burned her eyes as she sucked in tiny hiccups of air and slapped a hand against her chest, fear gripping her tight.

"It's okay. Hey, Luce, look at me!" Abby crouched in front of Lucy, a hand on her shoulder, and the other gripping the one banging against her chest. "You're okay. Just calm down and try to breathe."

Lucy looked up at her through bloodshot, teary eyes.

Abby nodded at her, half-smiling. "I got you."

Lucy nodded back, relief coursing through her. It took her a few seconds before she closed her eyes and just focused on those sips of air, lengthening them until they were more significant. The panic was still there, but distant, letting her focus on the moment, on Abby's steady hand and voice. Until finally, she was breathing normally, still a little shaky, but enough that her lungs didn't burn. Her throat was going to be bruised, but at least it wasn't broken.

"What the hell happened?" Alaric stood a few feet away, on high alert, holding a long shotgun, his hair mussed and his eyes wide.

"Kai's… _gone_ ," Lucy choked out.

"More heretics?" Abby looked to Sheila, who was hovering nearby worriedly.

Sheila's mouth pinched. "That'd be my guess."

"The rest are still here." Stefan hurried into the room. "They're still passed out."

Elijah's face darkened. "Excuse me, I need to have a word with security to see just how these heretics entered my house…" With that, he walked off, all tense lines.

Abby hooked an arm around Lucy and helped her stand, taking the brunt of her weight against her side.

"They didn't want them," Lucy managed to say. "The others. He wanted to leave them."

Stefan's brow furrowed, and he looked to Caroline next to him.

"Are we safe here?" Caroline cast her gaze around the group. "Stupid question, I guess. I'm not sure we're safe anywhere."

"They have Kai, maybe that's all they wanted…" Abby frowned. "They could've taken us all out in our beds if that was their endgame, but they didn't."

"So, what?" Caroline crossed her arms over her chest nervously. "We just go back to sleep? Pretend it's all okay?"

"There's not much else we _can_ do…" Sheila sighed. "We're all tired, and things are only going to get more hectic from here on out. We need our sleep."

Tired and wary, the group slowly took her advice and walked back to their rooms. This time, Lucy followed, crawling into bed next to Abby.

Sleep was elusive, however. She stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours until she eventually fell into a fitful sleep with any small noise or movement jarring her back awake. As soon as her eyes closed, she felt fingers on her neck and her skin crawled with the sensation. She had a feeling she wouldn't be forgetting the encounter anytime soon.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

"You are a long way from home, Hunter."

Jeremy looked up, startled. He had been following a magic trail for a while; he just hadn't realize quite how close they were. The difficulty lied in how much magic they put out; it was a hell of a lot more than any other creature. Which meant gauging whether they were near or far was just about impossible. Considering he was standing in the middle of the woods, however, he thought maybe he wasn't the only one tracking someone.

"It's M'Kenna, right?" He stared at her searchingly. "We haven't met. I'm—"

"I know who you are." M'Kenna moved away from the cover of a tall, wide tree; the end of her dress rustled against the forest bed. "The Betrayer. You led the siphon to the house. Because of you, my mother, Malia, and Lydia were taken prisoner."

"And resurrected." His mouth flattened into a line.

"But that was not your intention."

One moment she was a good fifteen or twenty feet away from him, the next she stood close enough that he could feel her body heat. He took a step back in surprise. A twig snapped under his foot; in the moment, tense as it was, it sounded like a gunshot. "You…?"

"When I lived, I believed myself to be more witch than demon. But since my rebirth, I find there are some things that I inherited from my father than I hadn't once possessed. Speed… Strength…" She smiled, showing off pearly white fangs. "An occasional thirst for blood."

Jeremy's heart hammered in his chest and threated to climb up his throat.

"Worry not, Hunter. I have already fed." She waved a hand to the forest. "Nature has offered me a bounty."

It was then he noticed the spots of blood that touched the collar of her dress, and with it, the faint threads of white and grey fur. A rabbit?

"Now. I believe you were looking for someone." She raised an eyebrow. "My mother perhaps? I can smell my father on you, so he cannot be whom you seek."

"Your mom, yes."

"You seek counsel with her? Perhaps an audience to hear your heartfelt apology?" She side-stepped and then began to circle him, her hands tucked at her back. "When I was a young girl, I often tried to convince my siblings that we should return to our village. That the townspeople had likely realized their actions were rash and would beg that we forgive them. I was willing to do so. Despite everything. Despite the ache I felt every day for the loss of my parents. Despite the pain I had felt in the very moment my mother was struck, and relieved of any life. I had forgiveness in me. My siblings were not so keen. My brother, Dysin, he believed it was foolhardy to trust in the town. They had been willing to kill three young children, slaughter them in their beds, what could have changed their minds in only a few short years? My sister, Neci, she feared the wrath of the townspeople. She would not return, lest they strike us down as they had always wanted. Neci carried a grave burden. She believed she was the reason the town turned on us. Her fire and her power scared them. And so we did not return, and I never learned whether their hatred and fear turned to regret and sorrow." She came to a stop once more, standing still at his back. "Do you think me a naïve girl, Hunter?"

He swallowed tightly, and shook his head in one quick jerk. "No."

"Do you think the town deserved my forgiveness?"

He remembered Damon's desperation. His struggle. His overwhelming love for his family, and his fury over the actions of the town. He remembered Zarius and his self-righteous words as he brought Bonnie's shaking hand down to carve the heart from Damon's chest. He remembered the love Damon had felt, even in his last moments, for his wife and his children and the short life he had led on earth.

While Jeremy knew that his answer could result in his life or death, he answered sincerely. " _No_."

M'Kenna paused, completely quiet, and Jeremy felt sweat break out on the nape of his neck.

"My father has spared you." A statement, not a question, but Jeremy answered it anyway.

"Twice."

"Why?" She was in front of him in a blink, her mouth pursed severely.

Jeremy shrugged. "Pity, probably."

"That doesn't sound like my father." Her eyes narrowed. "What penance have you paid?"

"I… I saw everything. With Bonnie, with you, with the others. I saw his life, and his death."

"You _saw_ it?"

He nodded, but it turned into a shake of his head a moment later. "I was _there_. I felt it. I—I was _him_."

She hummed thoughtfully. "When you look at me, what do you see?"

"I…" He stared at her. A beautiful mix of her mother and her father. Big, inquisitive eyes. Long, wavy hair. And he remembered the day she was born; how small she was in his hands. He remembered the sound of her laughter; how his heart squeezed in his chest each time. He remembered her climbing from the lake, soaked to the bone, reaching eagerly for his hand and chattering on about the fish and how friendly and smart and wonderful they were. She was just a little girl, full of life and hope and excitement. Most of all, however, he saw it from the perspective of a father. His heart swollen with love and pride, looking down at her, hearing her call him 'Papa.' Jeremy was barely an adult, and he was no father, but that didn't stop a part of his mind from feeling that way.

Seeming to get it, without him having to say a word, M'Kenna tipped her head to the side and let out a quiet hum. "You have saddled yourself with a great deal of confusion. Alliances will be tested. By birthright, you are the enemy of me and mine. And yet…" She reached out, and tapped a finger against his heart. "It is not our blood that makes our choices. Make yours wisely. I know what it is to live in regret. I would not wish it on anyone." With that, she turned on her heel, ready to leave.

" _Wait!_ "

M'Kenna paused, and looked back at him curiously.

Words crowded his throat, threatening to trip over one another on their exit. "I… I'm not the only one. There are others. Other hunters. I think they're headed this way. I _know_ they are."

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Are you warning me?"

"Your magic, it's different. It's potent enough to stand out. You, your mother, anyone like you, you're in danger." He gritted his teeth. "They aren't going to hesitate. They aren't like me. They'll shoot to kill, and they won't regret the body count."

This time, he turned to leave, making his way deeper into the woods. A part of him hoped she would listen to him, though he had no idea what she could possibly do with that information. It wasn't as if Bonnie would just pack her vendetta up and leave. But she needed to know that there were more enemies on the horizon, and they weren't like Kai, eager to watch the light show. No, they would want blood, and they would get it in whatever way they could.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Damon dreamt of her. Well, more accurately, he found her in his dreams.

They were home, in a bed he'd built himself, side by side. He watched her, laid out next to him, her hair spilling over her shoulders and across her pillow. Distantly, he could smell a fire burning in the house. Various herbs and spices drying on the window sill. Sweet grass, tied with a string, hung over their bed. He turned his head up to look at it, letting the familiarity soak into him.

He knew it was a dream. That it would never be like it was. His home was long gone now. A library in its place. The children were grown, having lives and families of their own. But here, in this moment, he could pretend.

Her hand slid across his chest, the warm skin of her palm soaking into him. "I thought you would still be angry."

"For your little vanishing act?" He turned to look at her, still just as beautiful as she'd always been. "I get why you're angry. I am, too."

She tapped her fingers against him. "There was a time when I was the hope and you the fury."

Damon turned onto his side. He covered her hand with his and then let his fingers sweep up her arm, circling the top of her shoulder. "Whatever choice you make, I'll stand by you 'til the bitter end. I can take or leave this world. I don't give a rat's ass what happens to most of these people. What I care about is _you_. I want you to be sure, when this is all over, that what you did was the right thing." He slid his hand up to her cheek, his thumb tracing along the curve. "Zarius was rage and anger and fear. And every second of every day that I've known you, you've been the opposite of that."

"That was before. Before our children were ripped from our sides. Before we were gutted and left to die in the woods. Before Neci and Dysin were imprisoned simply for _being_." Her eyes grew bright with tears. "I cannot have faith when all it has done is hurt me. I cannot forgive when treason still lives. I cannot wash my hands of another person's sins. I cannot and I will not."

Damon licked his lips and nodded slowly.

Bonnie reached up and clutched at his wrist, her fingers digging into his skin. "Can you love me… when hatred fills my bones?" Her voice had softened, unsure and quiet. As if there were some universe in which he could ever turn his back on her.

He thumbed away a stray tear that fell.

"I was different before. I wanted so desperately to believe that so long as we gave back to the world, it would give to us. Was I wrong? To believe so wholly?"

"No. _No_ , you weren't wrong. You were… You _are_ the best person I have ever known. You're someone to aspire to. Bonnie… _Hey_ …"

She looked up at him, her mouth trembling.

"Listen to me… I admire you. I _believe_ in you. And I love you. Always have, always _will_ , and nothing will change that." He pulled her close to him then, until her head was cradled on his chest and her body was pressed to his, their legs tangled together. Fingers stroking through her hair, he rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "Tell me what to do. You want me to start offing people? I will. You want me to dismantle heaven? I'll do that, too. Just say the word."

Bonnie was quiet for a long moment. But eventually, she rubbed her cheek against him, and said, "Hold me. _Please_."

Damon wrapped his arms around her tighter and kissed the top of her head. "Always."

They laid there, wrapped together, in a home they knew was forever lost to them, awash in grief and worry, and comforted by the one thing death could never strip from them. _Love_.

"When I go to war, will you stand with me?"

"I'll always stand with you." He meant it, he did. However, Damon couldn't help but wonder if standing _for_ her meant something very different.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Come morning, Elijah found himself sitting at a long table dressed in decadent foot he'd asked his cook to put out for breakfast. Much of the house was still asleep, but Jamie Bennett sat across from him, nearly shoveling a stack of steaming waffles into his mouth. Stirring his tea, he shared with the young man, "My patrolmen were killed."

"Heretics did it?" Jamie asked through a mouthful, licking up a dribble of syrup from his lip. At Elijah's frank stare, he rolled his eyes. "You know how long it's been since I ate? Half the time, the only thing we got to eat is canned foods. Grams cooks up stew like nobody's business, but I haven't had anything else in months. You don't get waffles when you're on the run."

Elijah hummed. "I would assume the heretics did it, but I can't fathom _why_. Lucy said they were hidden from sight; a concealment spell of some kind. They willingly chose not to harm us, only deciding to kill Lucy because she was an imminent threat. So, why kill the guards if they could get past them? And why leave us alive?"

Sitting back in his seat, Jamie finished off a tall glass of orange juice, wiped his mouth, and refilled his glass with the jug in reach. "If I know anything about Kai, it's that everything he does is for some bigger purpose."

Elijah raised a curious eyebrow. "In what way?"

"He raised Bonnie up because he wanted to see what she could do. He kept Malia and Lydia alive when he didn't have to. Lydia I get, she was a big part in waking Bonnie up. But Malia? The only reason I see him sparing her is because she's got ties to Damon. So, he spares people to avoid getting into it right away. You ask me, he wants us all there to see it happen."

"See _what_ happen, exactly?"

"The grand finale." Jamie skewered a sausage with his fork. "He wants to watch the world burn. And he's psychotic, so he wants to watch us all fall apart, too. We're just pieces on a game board for him. As far as Kai's concerned, our pain, our fear, everything we do, it's all just amusing to him. But he's not an idiot. Damon can destroy him with a snap of his fingers. So, he doesn't hurt Malia or Lydia. He brings Bonnie back, and when it doesn't go totally according to plan, he re-writes the plan. Either way, he wants an audience for when he kicks off the apocalypse. And we're it."

Elijah frowned grimly. While not what he was hoping to hear this morning, it did enlighten him as to the motivations of one Kai Parker. And he thought he had just the obstacle to trip Kai up.

Waving to a servant as he brought in a platter of scrambled eggs, Elijah said, "Find Klaus. Tell him I need to speak to him."

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Come morning, Damon was feeling refreshed. While things could have gone better with Bonnie, he couldn't deny that just holding her had made him feel a hell of a lot better. Deep down, she was still in there, she was just overwhelmed with anger and grief. He needed a way to break through that. And he was really hoping his sister, who, admittedly, he hadn't seen in a few milleniums, was just the person for the job.

Damon showered and changed and was ready to take on the world, or some version of it. He made his way into the parlor, whistling a chipper tune and rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"So? How are we gonna do this?" Malia was sitting on the couch, legs crossed under her, overflowing bowl of cereal cradled in her lap. She shoved a large spoonful into her mouth and spoke through it. "No church this time, right?"

"No, no church."

"Then what?"

Damon glanced at her, and then cleared his throat. Arms at his sides, he raised his hands up, fingers pointed outward. In a very deep voice, that seemed to echo through the room, he said, " _Briathos_."

Nothing happened.

A beat passed and he looked up at the ceiling, an eyebrow arched. "Seriously?"

Malia frowned. "She just answers to her name? That's kind of underwhelming…"

Damon rolled his eyes. "You have to say it a certain way."

Her brow furrowed. "You mean like you're _summoning_ her…?"

"Something like that." He sighed and shifted around restlessly. "Maybe I didn't say it right… Or maybe she goes by a different name now. They do that sometimes, just to screw with people. The really popular ones that are tired of getting summoned for every little thing. Honestly, angels are so pretentious. They—"

A crackle of energy rippled through the room. "Please, go on. I can't _wait_ to hear how this ends…"

Damon whirled around to find Bri standing behind him, her arms crossed. He grinned a little goofily and clapped his hands together. "I _knew_ you'd come."

She scoffed. "Yes, I could tell."

With a laugh, he walked toward her.

Despite her annoyed look, it crumbled the closer he got, until he was in reach, and she let him pull her in for a hug. He picked her right up off her feet and swung her around.

Squeezing him tight, she dropped her chin to his shoulder. "You look older, Little Brother."

"Haven't you heard?" He dropped her down to her feet, but didn't let her go. "I fathered a whole species. It's tiring work playing daddy..."

Bri snorted. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah, well, that happens when you get killed."

Leaning back, she met his eyes, her mouth pressed flat in a severe line. "I heard. Your mother informed me… I kept watch over the children after your passing. I visited sometimes, even if they didn't know it. But we have rules, and there were only so many times they would look the other way."

"What about Zarius?" His brow furrowed as he stared at her. "You let him have them?"

" _Let?_ " Her eyes brightened, the blue of her irises seeming to spark with tiny bolts of electricity. "I _fought_ for them. I nearly had my wings taken from me, I was so vocal against their decision. But they wouldn't be swayed. You have to understand, they were so _terrified_ of anyone with magic. It colored everything they did."

"What about now? Why haven't they reversed it?"

She scoffed and stepped back from him, beginning to pace the room, vibrating with agitation. "They hate to admit their wrongs. It's childish and unbecoming, but they've let their pride get the better of them. It's never spoken of, not since they created a better world for the magical to pass into. They feel they've rectified their mistake and will speak no more of it. To bring it up is an offense."

"I don't care who it _offends_ , Bri. I want my children back." Black scales flared across his face and hid themselves just as quick.

"What you're asking of me…" She turned to face him, guilt and sorrow lining her face. "I'll lose my wings."

"Better your wings than your conscience. This is Neci and Dysin. You _know_ them. They're as much your family as they are mine."

She closed her eyes and turned away. "If I lose my wings, I _fall_. Your mother doesn't exactly like me, Damon. I'll serve eternity in the hell pits, doing the worst jobs you can imagine. I'm not a demon. I— I don't have the stomach for that kind of punishment."

" _Please_ , angels are just as vengeful as the rest of us, they just dress it up as divine retribution." He stalked toward her. "I'm telling you this because you're my sister… If they don't give me my kids back, I'll storm heaven myself, with or without Bonnie. I'll tear it apart and I'll take every angel I see with me. So, either they make this right and give me my kids, or there will be no heaven or earth. Only hell."

Bri lifted her chin and turned to look at him, her eyes wide. "That's blasphemous… Even just _saying_ it can strip you of everything you are."

"I don't answer to Him. I answer to myself and my family. As far as I'm concerned, that doesn't include anybody standing in my way."

Blinking back a sheen of tears, she nodded. "I will see what I can do."

He reached for her, a hand wrapping around her wrist. "You know it isn't right… You _know_ it."

Bri stared down at his hand, and then raised a smile in his direction. "Goodbye Little Brother." With that, she blinked out of sight, with nothing but a single feather floating to the floor to show she'd ever been there.

Malia's spoon clinked against her bowl. "So… On a scale of one to ten, how badly did that go?"

Damon sighed.

* * *

 **...**

* * *

Bonnie walked through the woods with purpose. Behind her, nature grew brighter, impossibly green and lush with life. The sun filtered through criss-crossing tree limbs to dapple the forest floor, spilling over moss covered tree trunks and berry-heavy bushes.

She came upon a large opening, where body after body lay in dewy grass, nude for all the world to see. Various shades of brown skin as far as her eyes could reach. The wolves had returned to their human states, for now at least.

One in particular, woke at her arrival. He stood, tall with wide shoulders and a handsome face. He crossed the ground to meet her and fell to one knee, bowing his head. She dropped a hand atop black curls, a sign of recognition, and then let her hand fall back to her side. "What name were you given, wolf?"

He lifted his head to meet her eyes, green eyes warm and kind. "Mama named me Ibrahim, but I'd appreciate it if you called me Bram."

"Bram then." She nodded. "You lead this pack?"

"Only recently. LeRoy was our leader, but we lost him a few weeks back." He clenched his teeth, a muscle ticking in his cheek, and blew a heavy sigh out through his nose. "Things have been… tense since we arrived in town."

"I wish him peace." She stared at him searchingly. "You understand that to pledge your fealty to me and mine means you could lose more of your people…?"

"Our ways are set. We honor Mother Nature, and you epitomize that. Where you go, we follow. It was you and yours that gave my kind life. We owe you."

"Your life is your own, Bram. I hold no ill will to any who decides not to follow my path. Chances of survival are small and bleak."

He nodded. "I won't require that my pack follows you. It's up to them. But I can tell you now, they'll stay. Loyalty here is absolute."

Slowly, the other wolves began to rouse, shaking their heads to rid their hair of grass and twigs. Man and woman stood, bare to the world and Bonnie's eyes, strong, able, and ready to fight for her cause.

Bram raised a fist and knocked it hard against his chest. "My life and my spirit, my hands and my heart, by teeth and claw, I stand by you."

Behind him, the others followed suit, a chorus of voices.

And Bonnie gazed at each of them, a swell of emotion at her breast. An army of wolves stood at the ready, and the shadow of future retribution was warm on her tongue.

* * *

 **tbc**

* * *

 **note** : _sorry this took so long! i had a serious case of writer's block, where i knew what i wanted to write, i just couldn't get myself to sit down and actually write it. in any case, i've pushed through it, and i hope you enjoyed this chapter! there's a lot of little pieces that are all moving towards an ultimate goal. thank you all for reading and sticking with it. unfortunately, due to computer issues, i'll only be able to write/update on weekends for the time being. i'm trying to get as much written as i can, so i'm going to try and keep updates weekly. thank you to everyone who left a donation on my ko-fi. it's such a huge help! any of you who can leave a few dollars, it would be so, so appreciated!_

 _thank you all so much for reading._ _if you can, please try to leave a review_ _!_

 **\- Lee | Fina** _  
_


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